#threads; with cass

[letsbenditlikebennett]

TIMING: After this PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup @kadavernagh @magmahearts & @letsbenditlikebennett LOCATION: Office of the Medical Examiner SUMMARY: After Rhett attacks Cass and leaves her in a bad state, Alex gets her out of the woods and calls Kaden for a ride to the morgue as soon as she has cell reception. Or Regan, again, receives unexpected live patients at the morgue and Marcy needs a raise.

The time between when she hung up the phone with Kaden and when he actually arrived had felt like an eternity. Alex was certain that the warden wouldn't be moving again, at least for a little while, but the blood that clung to her wasn't just Rhett's. As if instinctively, it she gripped onto Cass tighter, desperately trying to keep them both upright until her cousin got there which was a far too grim reminder that too much of the blood that caked her skin was Cass's. She had to actively fight the sick feeling growing in her stomach. Even on a good day, she wasn't good with blood and now she was covered in it. Not even the spare giant t-shirt that went down to her knees was safe from it as her girlfriend continued to bleed and Alex tried to try pressure to the myriad of different wounds that covered the oread. 

“I just need you to stay with me a little longer, ok,” Alex practically pleaded though she tried to give her a voice a reassuring tone. She wasn't sure how much it covered up her own fear. She doubted it did at all. “Kaden'll be here any minute, it's going to be okay.”

She wasn't sure who she was reassuring, but when she saw headlights coming up the road and the familiar sound of Kaden's engine. Alex had never been so relieved to hear him approaching. She was pretty sure she could actually cry, but she wouldn't. Cass was hurt and she needed to be brave for Cass. Or at least try. 

When the car rolled to a stop, she waited for Kaden to rush to her side. “Thank you,” she huffed, “She's heavier than she looks... rock and all. I think I've been applying pressure to the worst of it. I can sit in the back with her on the way to the morgue.”

She had her suspicions about Regan being a nymph herself, but they were just that. Suspicions. Alex had no actual clue if the medical examiner would be able to work with... well, a girl made of rocks. “Dr. Kavanagh should be able to help her, right?“ Regan had to be able to help her because the alternative was too difficult to stomach. 

—

The keys were in Kaden’s hand and he was hopping into his truck before he’d even hung up with Alex. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, just that it was an emergency, in the woods, hurt. Cass. He considered using the work truck and flipping on the lights to get there even faster but he figured, whatever it was that had actually happened, he would want the space of his normal truck. He dared someone to pull him over on the way there. He’d run them over.

He saw their small figures across the way long before he was close enough to stop the car. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw it in park and sprint to them the second his eyes were on Alex and her girlfriend but he managed and pulled up as close as he possibly could, tires skidding into place.

“Putain,” he said, throwing himself out of the car. His eyes swept over Alex, trying to assess her wounds. She was roughed up but alright. His eyes fell over Cass and it was clear that she was far from okay. “Alex what the hell happened to her?” He knew she mentioned a hunter but he hadn’t assumed Cass was this injured. Crouching down beside her, it was hard to believe this was the same kid who had no trouble facing off with a pinball whirling towards her. She was beaten down, broken. The sparks of life she was filled to the brim with before were fading away. 

Kaden nodded at Alex’s words and reached under the nymph to carefully scoop her up. He didn’t have any plan on how to help her but he knew they had to do something. Fast. First step was to get her into the truck and away from here. 

Kavanagh? His brow furrowed at the mention of the medical examiner. Made sense. Was as good a plan as any. “Maybe. I think so.” He couldn’t think about anything beyond the immediate. “Fae. She knows about fae. And she’s a doctor.” He wasn’t sure if he was telling Alex or reminding himself. “We’ll get her there. Keep pressure and support her while I lift her. On three.” 

—

There was no room to do anything but push forward. It brought a certain sense of clarity with it. There wasn't room for panic or acknowledging the multitude of sensations that would make Alex sick to her stomach under less dire circumstances. If her head had been more clear maybe she would have thought of the miracle that was adrenaline, but all she could think of was making sure Cass was okay. So when she answered Kaden, the weight of her answer didn't fully register. 

“A warden... We met him before but didn't know he was��� I heard her scream when I was hiking toward the cave and he had already grabbed her. He was going to kill her so I stopped him,” Alex said flatly, ”If he didn't bleed out already, he knows what I am.“ Whether or not Rhett was dead wasn't something she could think about when Cass was barely hanging on. Hell, she was barely hanging on in the strength department which became harder to ignore when Kaden lifted Cass into the truck and she realized her own legs were shaking.  

The weight Kaden lifted was more than a physical one as Alex felt some hint of relief once Cass was being lifted into the truck. Her left arm carefully kept the oread's neck upright as the other hand kept pressure against the wound on her shoulder. She was quick to follow into the truck once they got Cass inside; she knew she'd have to keep applying pressure to the wound in Cass's shoulder which looked so much worse than it ought to, even for an iron blade. Her already blood-caked hand found the wound and pressed down on it. ”I think she is fae,“ she added, ”But that's... She can help. She'll be able to make sure Cass is okay.“ 

There was an unspoken desperation in her words. Alex wasn't sure if that was part of what pushed Kaden to drive at such a rapid pace, but she found she didn't care even if the way the trees whipped by them was dizzying. ”It's going to be okay,“ she reassured quietly as she looked down at Cass. She wasn't sure entirely who she was trying to convince, but Cass being okay felt like the only option. ”I've got you,“ she whispered. She'd promise as much if Cass would let her. 

Trees kept zipping by through the window as Alex remained still as could be. She was afraid to move, to shift Cass in a way that might make things worse, but the stillness of it all let the events catch up to her a bit. ”We'll need to go back and check that he's,“ she trailed off, unable to fully let herself acknowledge that she very well may have killed Rhett— or worse, that some small part of her hoped he was dead.

—

A warden. Knew what Alex was. Nearly killed Cass. Was probably bleeding out. Kaden tried to process the information but there was too much happening all at once. He had to focus on the task at hand: save the nymph in the back of the truck. The rest he would file away for later, figure it out then. Like if there was a dead body they had to worry about. And if they should inform the medical examiner during this visit. 

None of that mattered as much as driving as fast and as carefully as he could directly to the morgue. As soon as he closed the door on Alex, he rushed to the driver’s seat and tore out of there and back onto the road. Hopefully he wasn’t bringing Regan another dead body. A pit dropped in his stomach at the thought. No. His grip tightened on the wheel. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Worry about that later,” he said to her, eyes pinned forward, not even allowing himself to look back at her through the rearview mirror. If he looked back, he’d lose focus, start worrying about what else they could do. He had to stay single minded, focus on the mission. It wasn’t a hunt but for once his training might save someone instead of hurting them. 

Kaden wove his truck through traffic, barely stopped at any signs or lights, and raced through town to get them to the morgue. He didn’t bother finding a spot, instead throwing the truck into park right along the curb outside the glass doors. It briefly occurred to him that it would be hard enough to explain why they were carrying someone alive into the morgue to see the medical examiner and even harder to explain what Cass was to the front desk. Putain de merde. 

He hadn’t come up with any sort of plan or anything at all by the time he was helping pull the fae out of the truck. “I’ve got her,” he told Alex. “Get the door, call for Regan. Maybe, I don’t know, tell the front desk to leave.” He winced once the full weight of Cass’s rock covered body was in his arms. It was strange that someone so small and who looked so fragile just then could be so heavy. It wouldn’t slow him down, he wouldn’t falter, he wouldn’t let himself. 

—

It was a small kindness that Kaden was willing to talk about the warden aspect of things later. Alex wasn’t sure she could rely on herself to really recount the details when Cass felt so cold in her arms. The blood was pooling in the hands that were desperately pressing down on the wound in her shoulder. It took a concentrated effort to keep her hands from shaking, surprisingly not because of the slick feeling of blood against her skin, but because she was terrified. Even when that ranger had a gun pointed in her direction, she couldn’t remember feeling this frightened. Cass was too quiet in her arms, her features too pained and contorted. All she could think of was how much the oread meant to her and the fact it felt like she was slipping away right there in her arms. 

The fact Kaden hadn’t bothered with parking etiquette was more than a relief to Alex. Every second between them and getting Cass proper help felt like an eternity. The truck was practically pulled up to the glass doors and Kaden was carefully extracting Cass from the truck. She hopped out following and nodded diligently as Kaden spoke. “Ok,” she answered, “I’ll get Marcy… to not be there. And get Dr. Kavanagh. Just… I’ll be quick.” Her eyes fell to Cass, “Hang in there, okay?” 

She wasn’t sure the oread could hear her so Alex simply ran off and into the fluorescent lighting of the morgue. She remembered Marcy from before and she seemed to be typing away on her computer. What was the best way to ensure Marcy didn’t follow Regan back to her desk? “Hi, Marcy,” she greeted more frantically than she would have liked, “I need to see Dr. Kavanagh… it’s important medical examiner business. Tell her it’s Alex Bennett. I… uh I have Animal Control Officer Langley outside, too. You should probably… I think you look like you totally deserve to take your lunch break like right after grabbing Dr. Kavanagh.” 

—

“Fiddlesticks, fudge, no, figh can’t be right…” Marcy glanced up from her phone as the doors opened and… oh, this had Dr. Kavanagh all over it. She remembered Alex Bennett, one of the doc’s oddball visitors, and apparently she brought company. Another person. No, wait, two other – oh. Oh, fiddlesticks. This seemed urgent enough to call the doctor instead of shooting her a text. She did so immediately. “Regan, we have a code ‘what the fuck’ up here.” Marcy looked nervously at the three mostly-strangers who had interrupted her game of Connections (today’s theme of f-expletives seemed appropriate, suddenly), her eyes wide with confusion and perhaps some degree of understanding. Her fingers danced across the tabletop and finally Regan picked up. 

“Can this wait?” the doctor asked, sounding exasperated, “I’m in the middle of a–” 

Marcy cut her off. “Please don’t tell me what body part your hand is in. This is, like, really ‘what the fuck’. Come now, okay?” 

Regan simply hung up, and Marcy stared blankly at Alex, trying not to look at the company she’d walked in with. Marcy usually lived for gossip (and both Regan and Morty were the perfect fodder) but this was something else. Regan couldn’t come fast enough.

The last time they’d had a code ‘what the fuck,’ it had been because a horde of crabs came scuttling in and nearly carried Marcy away with them. The crabs seemed to be gone, but Regan reasonably expected something else quite serious. She rushed out and up, barreling through the doors. Oh, how she wished it were crabs.

Kaden. Alex. Some lump in his arms. This cinniúint-amú family. Treating her morgue like a – She halted, midstep, feeling the presence of something, someone else. The lump was more than a lump. More than human, even. Regan raced to get closer, immediately setting her hands on the fae’s strange skin (was it part of what was wrong?). A girl, barely more than a child. Unconscious, or near it. 

Regan’s first instinct was to shout, break some lights, remind Kaden that this was not the emergency department and serious injuries needed to be attended to elsewhere. But the injured being fae changed the equation significantly. She could not go to a hospital, and especially not looking like this. And where better was there, really? Before Regan had arrived in Saol Eile, they had relied upon inexperienced hands and anecdotes reeking of homeopathy. Regan understood the lack of options. She just didn’t like it. “Langley. Why are you always involved in these things?” She narrowed her eyes at Kaden, who was too easy to blame, but really, Alex had been equally involved in her own injury and possibly what was happening right now. Kaden was older, though, and his shoulders were adequately-muscled for carrying blame.

Right now she needed him to carry their injured. “Hurry it up,” she said, carding the doors open and pointing; Kaden probably remembered where her office was, but they might need the space and tools the autopsy suite would afford them today. What a screaming mess this was. She wasn’t even sure the two of them knew the girl was fae. Regan waved a curt but grateful goodbye to Marcy, who needed no instruction on what to do next (stall Rickers). “Continue past my office and into the autopsy room. Give me as much medical history as you have and tell me what happened. And tell me what’s wrong with her skin.” Regan paused, feeling confident in her words, which seemed worth delivering. “She will not die here.”

In the autopsy suite, she did not waste a second. There were rarely emergencies here; the dead did not mind waiting for their procedures. But now she was filled with an energy and urgency she hadn’t felt in a long time. “On the table. Now.” There was a decedent lying on the adjacent autopsy table. Regan had just managed to stuff his organs back into him and stitch him up, but he needed to be put back in the fridge. She did not like the idea of anyone else touching her patients. She was even stingy when it came to Rickers and the techs. But… her eyes flicked between the dead and the living, and with a defeated sigh, she then looked over at Kaden. “He goes in 8F. If you drop him I will place you in there instead.” She turned to the girl, pulled open her eyelids. The pupils responded automatically to the harsh overhead light. Good. “Round, equal, and reactive.”

Her skin was hard, craggy like stone, and it defied anything Regan had ever seen before. Had the circumstances been different, she could have spent hours looking at it under a microscope and her scalpel. But the circumstances were what they were, and what could have been exciting and full of wonder was currently a hindrance, obscuring what she needed to see. She decided to take a gamble with their knowledge. “You need to get her to glamour.” Regan said, meeting Alex’s eyes with a deadly serious intensity. “She may not be able to hold it in place, but she must, even if it’s only around her injuries. I cannot see what’s going on under this… material. And would not know how to treat it like this.” There was one thing she could see plainly, though: a deep, smoking wound across her left shoulder, like a flaming blade had been plunged through muscle. It was open, exposing something underneath that glowed with orange, pulsing energy, but no blood. “I believe this is from cold iron. Quickly. If you cannot wake her, I can, but it will hurt.”

—

Kaden didn’t know Cass as well as he’d like but he knew enough. He knew was going to do every goddamn thing he could to keep her alive. He knew he was going to find that warden and— He didn’t know what came after that. Because first thing was carrying Cass into the morgue and forgetting that this building housed dead bodies. She wasn’t going to be one of them. “I’ve got you,” he said as his arms cradled her rock covered body. The edges and rough surface dug and pinched into his skin, likely leaving marks and bruises. If there was pain, he didn’t notice, just held on tighter. “Stay with me. Alex is inside.” His words came out like gasps and he couldn’t be sure if that was due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins or the fact that she was heavy in his arms. He was shuffling to the door as fast as he could, very aware of the fact that with Alex going ahead, no one was able to put pressure on the wounds. “Magma’s not going to go down like this, alright?” 

If there was anyone working the front desk, Kaden didn’t notice her. His eyes were searching for one person and one person only. He was already headed directly to her office when his eyes locked on hers, a tiny flick of hope lighting up in him. Apparently she wasn’t as thankful to see him. Right now, he didn’t give a shit if she wanted him there or not, she was going to help with the kid. “You can scream at me later, Kavanagh. Help her.” He barely had to pause as the doors slid open. Relief was a second away when she said to go to the autopsy suite instead. His head shot around to face her, his brows knit together and worry written across his face. She will not die here. He didn’t know if that was a wish or a fact, but Regan’s tone seemed to write it in stone. He was going to cling to them as tightly as he held Cass. 

Once they were inside the suite, Kaden did his best to set her down gently on the table, but it was difficult to rest rock on metal without any clashing. He winced at the sounds, hoping he hadn’t made anything worse, silently apologizing to her as he laid her down. Kaden backed away and thought that, for the time being, the extent of his ability to help was spent. He was shocked to hear that wasn’t the case. His eyes fell on the dead body next to Cass, sutures laced all the way down from his chest. He wasn’t a stranger to dead bodies, but he never saw them like this. His stomach churned and he could feel bile churning up to his throat. “He goes in… 8F?” he repeated, hoping that it might buy him the time to steady himself as he went pale. 

Putain de merde. This was stupid, he had dealt with much worse, scenes that were far more gruesome and had caused worse than that. In here, in this setting, surrounded by the cold and sterile medical supplies, it felt completely different. He took a deep breath before he nodded, grit his teeth, and decided to rip off the metaphorical band aid. Just pretend they’re alive, he thought as he rolled the body towards the right drawer. Fucking hell, he was putting a body in a drawer. Right. Easier said than done. Just had to make sure he didn’t vomit or pass out in the process. 

—

She will not die here.

There was no way those words could be spoken with absolute certainty, but Alex clung onto them like they were a liferaft. Her mind sunk its claws into them as if they were some tangible string she could tangle and keep in her grip. The alternative wasn’t something she could consider. The alternative terrified her. 

Though a small part of her felt guilty that Regan seemed to think Kaden was somehow involved in what happened to Cass or could have been the cause. Alex shook her head. “It’s not Kaden’s fault,” she explained, “I couldn’t carry her all the way– I needed a ride.” Given the bone nymph was straight on to business, which wasn’t at all surprising, she stopped herself from overexplaining because the truth of it was simple, wasn’t it? No matter how good Cass was, no matter how many people she helped during her patrols as Magma, there would always be a warden out there like Rhett who didn’t care and wanted her dead anyway. 

“This is my girlfriend, Cass,” Alex explained, looking at the oread in Kaden’s arms somewhat helplessly, “I was meeting her for a picnic and I found her being attacked by a warden. She probably… we met him before but didn’t know he was a warden. She probably…” The words caught in her throat. “He didn’t follow us, I promise,” she quickly added, hoping it answered enough that Regan and let her know there wasn’t an immediate threat following. 

Whatever Dr. Kavanagh asked of her, Alex would do it happily. Already, the medical examiner was taking control of the situation in a way that seemed practiced. It probably was practiced. Even if most of Regan’s patients were already dead, she was still a medical doctor. Emergency training was part of the education and well, Regan also seemed inclined to let the stray non-dead patient into her morgue too. If she wasn’t so damn scared that her girlfriend was about to be knocking death’s door, she may have watched Regan work with more admiration. As it was, she was quick to follow instructions. Any directive the doctor gave her was meant to help Cass, so aptly paid attention and followed into the autopsy room. 

The dead body on the table next to Cass hadn’t even fully registered until Regan was directing Kaden to put it in… a drawer. Alex knew how morgues worked in theory, but the normally unsettling idea was completely overlooked as she carefully looked over Cass. Regan mentioned a glamour and it made Alex positive that coming to the bone nymph was the right call… even if the doctor wouldn’t call herself a bone nymph. There was a weight in Regan’s gaze that made Alex immediately nod dutifully. 

“I’ll do what I can,” Alex agreed, “I don’t… she’s already in enough pain.” 

Her attention shifted to Cass and Alex leaned closer to the table as she looked the oread over. Neither arm looked too good, so she wasn’t sure hand was the right way to get Cass’s attention. Instead, her hand found Cass’s cheek and softly cupped it in her hand. “Cass,” she breathed out. No, she had to speak up. Her voice couldn’t be as small and scared as she felt. “Cass,” she spoke louder, “Babe, I need you to concentrate for a little while. I know it hurts… but we have help, ok? Dr. Kavanagh just needs you to put up your glamour, at least around your injuries so she can start taking care of them.” 

Cass stirred under her touch and Alex let out a breath she hadn’t realized she held in. “You can hold my hand as tight as you need, if it helps,” she added, “But you got this, ok? You’re like the bravest and strongest person I know… if anyone can throw on the ‘ol razzle dazzle in a time like this, it’s you. I think… focus on getting it on for your shoulder first?” She gave Regan an inquisitive look, hoping that she gave the right directive there. 

—

There were flashes, after the woods. She remembered walking with Alex, her feet so much heavier than they usually felt. Alex’s voice, talking first to her and then to someone else, their responses tinny and far away as they came through the speaker of a phone. Then Kaden was there, too, in the blink-of-an-eye kind of way that meant she was definitely losing time. Another blink, and she was laying across Alex’s lap in the backseat of an unfamiliar car. Another, and they were somewhere else. She heard Alex and Kaden talking, but she couldn’t track the conversation. Alex vanished for a moment, and Cass let out a low whine, feeling more like a child than she had in such a long time.

Another flash. Someone was holding her. They were moving, and she felt the vibrations but they were stilted, dull. Everything was, the world narrowed to the pain in her shoulder where Rhett’s knife had gone in. That hurt more than the broken arm, and there was something almost funny about that, wasn’t there? You’d think the broken thing would hurt more. You’d think. 

Kaden said something to her, and it took longer than it should have for it to register. Called her Magma, and she let out a quiet sound that was almost a laugh. Had she told him? She didn’t remember. Maybe he’d known all the while, the whole time. Or maybe she was Magma not Cass to him at the moment. Did Spider-Man have this problem? She swore she knew, but she couldn’t remember.

Another flash, and there was something solid under her back. It was cold; everything was cold. There was a flutter in her gut that was familiar, but felt as far away as the rest of it. Another fae? For a moment, some childish, outlandish part of her wondered if it was her father or someone from that long-forgotten aos si in Hawai’i. If one of them cared enough, somehow, to know she was in trouble and just… appear. But when her eyes were forced open and a flash of light shone into them, she caught a glimpse of white hair and pale skin that couldn’t belong to anyone with family ties with her. Her eyes fluttered shut again. Alone. She was alone.

But… that wasn’t true, was it? There was a presence at her side, worried and hovering. Alex’s voice cut through the haze, and it sounded like music. Concentrate. Glamour. “Anything for you, babe,” she murmured, and it came out more slurred than she’d wanted it to be. It was supposed to be smooth. Impressive. But she wasn’t either of those right now, was she?

Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, glamour flickering. It was hard to concentrate through the pain, but Alex asked her to do it so she would. The glamour was visibly unsteady, flickering on and off like a faulty lightbulb. Skin one moment, stone the next. She concentrated hard on her injured shoulder, letting out a low groan. “It hurts,” she whispered. “Is it — Am I doing it?”

—

As Kaden struggled with the decedent (but, fine, ultimately did an acceptable job stowing him away), Regan dedicated herself fully to her new patient as information poured out. Girlfriend. Alex had mentioned dating a fae. The pieces snapped together like dislocated bones popping into place. And a warden did this. Her teeth clenched as her jaw tightened around them. “I am not concerned about you being followed.” Normally she would have chastised the promise, but it was not the time. Nor was it the time to mention involving the authorities. Sure, they could not know what Cass was, but this was an unprovoked attack on a near-child. How could someone get away with such a thing, without an effort even being made to stop them? She thought of Teagan, whose assailant was still out there, as far as anyone knew. It could have been the same individual behind both attacks, but they had distinctly different flavors. Discussion for later.

Alex did an admirable job keeping herself together for Cass’s sake. When this was through, she would tell the child that. For now, though, Regan did not want to distract her – especially when her words of encouragement to her girlfriend seemed to be working to stir the patient. “Shoulder first. That is the most pressing concern.” If Regan was correct. It would be the most painful, too. The other incised wounds surely hurt, but they weren’t as deep or putrid. Alex was succeeding – and for that matter, so was Cass. Mostly. The tough material flickered away, replaced by skin, only to transform itself back again. “Keep it steady,” Regan said, “I can only be as steady as you are.” She left providing any comfort to Alex and dove right in, her hands carefully navigating the margins of the wound now that she could see clearly; they were semi-cauterized but still smoldered, and seemed to be almost expanding. If Regan was capable of paling, she might have.

Seeing the injury seared through Cass’s flesh only confirmed Regan’s suspicions. “This is a cold iron injury. Do you know what that is?” She truly did not know the knowledge base of her audience anymore. “It won’t heal by itself. And I cannot improve it. But I can stop it from getting worse, and permit it to heal on its own, given time.” Her palms stung with their own reminder. She had one cold iron blade, and even Cliodhna did not permit its use under typical circumstances. “Kaden,” she turned to him and was pleased to find her own seriousness reflected back at her. “Here is my ID. Card into my office and go into the bottom right drawer of my desk. There is a jar – small, plastic, red top. Bring it here.”

–

Instructions. Those were good. Kaden could follow those. It was better, even. Otherwise the best he could do was pace and wonder if he was in anyone’s way or distracting Regan. He took the ID card and ran off. Once he was out of the door, he hesitated, trying to remember the direction they came in. It was all a blur since they got there and he’d been carrying Cass, he hadn’t paid attention. 

Deep breath. He was pretty sure it was that way and soon enough he was sure once he saw the familiar door to Regan’s office. He fumbled with the card and slammed it against the reader a few different ways, but he didn’t need to put in all the effort, one tap was enough. He nearly pulled the door off its hinges and dove into the office.

Putain, what was it she said? Drawer, something about a drawer. He glanced around and saw a lot of those. Which fucking one? Desk, right, she’d mentioned that, too. Desk drawer. Narrowed it down but not completely. Kaden shut his eyes and tried to repeat the words over in his mind. Bottom drawer. Desk. Red top. That’s what he got. Yanking open the left drawer, all he saw were skulls. That was actually a pretty nice raccoon one but– Right. Task at hand. Better try the drawer on the right before digging around the bones. Sure enough, in the second drawer there was a flash of red. He leaned over and pulled a book out of the way. “How to Flirt Without Sounding like a Serial Killer.” Right. Good luck to her on that one. He set it aside and saw a jar, but reaching for it, it was clear it was just mayonnaise. Which brought some more questions. Either way, next to it was a second jar and there it was, just like she said: red lid, plastic jar. Kaden didn’t know what was in it, all he knew was they needed it and so he grabbed it, sprinting out of the office as fast as he’d gotten there.

“Here,” he said, practically shoving the jar into Regan’s hands. He was out of breath from running but hadn’t noticed until he’d had to speak. Lungs heaving, he backed away and watched. That was all that was left for him to do, wasn’t it? Just watch, hope, and try not to get in the way, wait for any more instructions, but otherwise watch and wonder.

–

Kaden made haste and Regan was left with the two children. Something squirmed inside of her, seeing their pain. Fortunately for all of them, he wasn’t gone long. There it was: the red jar. She accepted it with a nod of approval, and hovered over Cass’s injury as she uncapped it. “This is for… these kinds of injuries. It is likely to work, but I can’t say for certain. It might not be to her specifications, though.” Regan opened the small jar and breathed in the scent of old bone marrow mixed with something floral. It was the last of what she’d brought from Saol Eile. If this happened again, she would need to figure something else out. Somewhere in her cabin was a book with instructions on making more of the salve, and though the ingredient list made a strange kind of sense, it filled her with unease. Still, she did know it worked… on banshees. She had seen it. “I’m going to put this in her wounds. It might sting a little at first, but it will function as an analgesic when it sets in. Most importantly, it will prevent the necrosis of her… flesh.” If it could be called flesh. “Know that there may be other effects. If you have objections, voice them now.”

—

Somewhere in the background, Kaden had returned to her side after getting the descendent where Regan had directed. A distant part of Alex knew that it couldn’t have been an easy task for him, but everything else seemed like a blur as she focused on Cass. It needed to be a blur. If she let her mind drift to the feeling of blood caked to her skin or linger on the fact she was absolutely terrified, there’s no way she’d be able to keep helping. Cass needed her to be strong right now, so she had to be strong. She gently held the oread’s hand and smiled down at her. “You’re doing so good, babe,” she reassured, her voice coming out much more gravelly than she would have liked, “Just keep it up and steady around your shoulder, ok? You got this.” 

She stayed close to Cass as Dr. Kavanagh looked over her shoulder. Every so often, Alex offered whispered reassurances to the oread. Her shoulder looked so much worse with the glamour up. It was so easy to see where the iron had seared her skin and how it seemed to be worse than when they’d first left the forest. Given, the lighting now was much clearer and the werewolf knew she should look away. Her stomach practically begged her to, but she couldn’t scare Cass more. It was her turn to be the brave one and she gripped onto Cass’s hand enough to mask the tremor in her own fingers. 

Her attention turned to Dr. Kavanagh as she spoke of cold iron. None of it made any sense to Alex. How was cold iron any different from regular iron? She didn’t think werewolves were more sensitive to cold silver. That would have been somewhere in the ranger family playbook. She shook her head. “I know iron hurts her. Most of what I know about fae… she didn’t grow up with other fae. I told her that iron hurts her. Is cold iron worse,” she asked though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer. 

It wasn’t something that could heal on its own. Alex wasn’t sure if that made her more angry or afraid. There was some strange haze of both that hung over her as she practically squeaked out, “Please.” Cass was already in terrible shape. She wasn’t sure how much worse the oread could handle before she— She quickly shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. Regan said Cass wouldn’t die here and she wouldn’t. She offered Kaden a quick grateful look as he made off to fetch what Regan needed. 

By the sound of his footsteps, Alex could tell he was moving quickly, but time still seemed to move too slowly. Somewhere she could hear a wall clock and the detail seemed deafening, more so than her own heart hammering away so erratically she swore she could feel it in her throat. Kaden was back and she tuned into Dr. Kavanagh’s instructions. It was likely to work and the emphasis on specifications wasn’t lost on Alex. “So it was made with a different type of fae in mind,” she said lowly, not really speaking to anyone so much as thinking aloud. It was a sure deal, but it was their only chance. While medicine was hardly something she knew about, she sure as hell knew enough that necrosis of the flesh was not good. And since it wasn’t made for Cass, she was fairly certain that meant it was hard to know what the other effects would be. 

“Use it,” Alex decided quickly as she glanced down the wound that already looked worse, “Whatever the effects are can’t be worse than the pacman of stab wounds over here.” If Cass was listening, she’d appreciate the arcade game reference. Alex smiled weakly as she remembered Cass showing her how to play the game and she knelt back down by Cass. “Hey, rockstar,” she grinned weakly, “You’re doing great. I just need you to hold out a little longer. Dr. Kavanagh is going to put something that’ll help on your wounds, but it might sting first… There may be some side effects, but I got you, ok? I’ll be right here.” 

—

She was out of it. It was difficult to follow the conversation, so she stopped trying. Alex would pick up on the important parts and tell her later… if there was a later. The thought rose up without her permission, inky black and heavy. Cass wasn’t a pessimist. Quite the opposite, in fact. She’d been called naive in her optimism, but she clung to it all the same because what was the alternative? The world fucking sucked. If you didn’t hold on to the bright side, you’d lose yourself to the darkness. 

But Cass couldn’t find the bright side here. She couldn’t work out the positives of the situation, couldn’t unpack the good. Everything hurt, and she’d never died before but she was pretty sure this was what it felt like. The way her shoulder seemed to be spreading pain to the rest of her, the shivers she couldn’t stop from wracking her frame, the way Alex and Dr. Kavanagh spoke about her like she wasn’t there and the way she might as well have not been there for how well she could listen to them. Alex was saying things to her occasionally, and Cass clung to her voice like a lifeline even if she couldn’t make out the words.

Alex was beside her, then, and Cass tried with everything she had to listen. Her glamour flickered as he concentration shifted, but she understood what Alex was saying. The doctor was going to do something. It was going to hurt. But it would help her, too. She closed her eyes, nodding her head. “Do it,” she agreed. “Do whatever. I don’t — I don’t want to die.” She looked to Dr. Kavanagh as she said it, eyes feeling wet. “I don’t want to die, okay? Do what you need to do, but don’t let me die.”

—

Cass’s informed consent was, Regan thought, as good as it would get. “No questions or concerns, then. We proceed.” There was something almost familiar about Cass’s voice when she spoke, and as the glamour flickered off her face for a moment, Regan recognized her. Oh, that was too strange to even think of right now. She focused instead on the weak, unevenness of Cass’s plea, the mortal fear, and was determined to be the unmoving force she was required to be. Regan’s voice had an edge of authority and certainty. “You’re not going to die here, today.” 

She was in the rhythm of urgency now, and Alex and Kaden cleared the way for what needed to be done. Cass was still having trouble with her glamour, but she seemed to be able to muster enough resolve to hold it steady now. Whatever that strange, tough material Cass’s skin truly consisted of, it would have been impossible for Regan to access for application. “Good work.” She offered the rare praise, a reminder to hang on as long as she could. With careful hands, Regan dabbed the cream around the wound. What remained went into the other injuries, just in case those were from the same blade, though they didn’t look so malignant. It would help either way. And then that was it. The last of what she had brought from Saol Eile, exhausted. Traded for Cass. Please let it work. 

The wound pulsed with a strange darkness for a moment like the salve had stained it, then sizzled, the searing heat of the iron abating. It still gaped with toothy, jagged edges but now, given the time and proper care, Regan was confident that it would heal. At least until it happened again. These people… this town…  it was at times more rotten than anything in her morgue, and she ought to be grateful she would soon be leaving it. Her eyes ticked from Alex to Kaden, who were probably full of complicated emotions right now. Hope. Fear. Confusion. Her own concern gnawed at her but she set it on ice like her cadavers. Regan watched as the wound seemed to soak up the remaining darkness and waited. For what, she did not know.

—

Good work. It was stupid, she knew. The way those two words somehow meant more than the promise that she wouldn’t die here today, the way they sent a thrill of newfound energy surging through her veins that allowed her the concentration she needed to hold that glamour in place. The doctor, the fae doctor said good work, and Cass was eleven years old again, trying with everything she had to win the approval of nymphs who saw her as more of a bother than a person. Back then, she’d never earned anything resembling praise. But now? She was doing good work. Her smile was small and pained and tight, but it was still there. It was still real.

The doctor’s hands were at the injury on her shoulder, the one that burned and ached and felt hot and cold at the same time. She touched it with something cool, and it was like someone had injected darkness into her veins. The effect felt so instantaneous. The room dimmed. The temperature dropped. Cass blinked, and when she dragged her eyes back open, the morgue was full of strangers. A man with his chest hanging open, staples ripped out. A woman with goat’s legs and a darkening bruise around her throat. A teenager with a crown of blood encircling their head, eyes curious and sad. In the middle of them all, partially blocked off by their bodies, stood Rhett. Staring down at her with an expression of mild curiosity, like she was an animal in the zoo. The scratches Alex’s claws had left in his face were there, blood dry now. 

Were these ghosts, she wondered? A sea of the dead, beckoning for Cass to join them? Her eyes darted to Alex and Kaden and the doctor. There was a wound in Kaden’s side, freely bleeding. His shirt was so covered in blood that the fabric was hard to make out beneath it — had he been wearing red flannel, or did it just look that way now? Alex’s hair was the wrong shade of red, shining dully in the overhead lights of the morgue. It was wet. Not water. It wasn’t water soaking her head. The doctor was in black and white (was that why she looked familiar?), but there were spots of red slowly staining through, swirls of color that didn’t belong. Cass’s breath hitched, eyes darting between them all until something behind them caught her attention.

Kuma stood a few feet from Rhett, arms crossed over her chest. Debbie was beside her, the injuries that led to her death prevalent and obvious in the morgue. They both looked rotted. Everything ached.

And then, Cass blinked again, and it was all gone. It was just as it had been before. There was no blood in Alex’s hair. Kaden’s shirt was clean. The doctor wasn’t exactly colorful, still, white coat and all, but there was no red to be seen. And her shoulder didn’t burn, and she didn’t feel quite as cold, but the exhaustion that clung to her was hard to fight.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the doctor, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, they darted around for a moment before meeting Alex’s. Clear and blue and alive, like they were supposed to be. She offered the werewolf a small smile and let her consciousness flee. Safe. She was safe now.

—

Desperation had a way of making time seem slower. Alex knew the clock ticked at the same rhythm somewhere off in the distance, but it felt distorted as she gave the doctor room to take care of Cass’s wounds. It wasn’t the first time that Regan assured the oread wouldn’t die here. Fae couldn’t lie. Cass had told her that. Sure, the truth was subjective, but Dr. Kavanagh was a bone nymph. If she said Cass wasn’t going to die here that had to be the truth. At least, it alleviated some of her own fear so she could be the steady presence her girlfriend needed. Not that she would consider herself steady. The only thing that felt steady was the gaze she kept trained on Cass. Even blinking felt like a gamble that she only took when her eyes felt like they were burning. 

The salve seemed to create a cloud of darkness around it and Alex found herself having to cover her mouth and nose as the wound seared. It was strange. The autopsy suite didn’t smell like burning. The bite of medical grade cleaners was the predominant scent in the air, but underneath she could smell him. His blood still coated her body and she didn’t dare look down to find it drying on her skin. Just focus on Cass. 

It seemed like the remedy Dr. Kavanagh had given her was working though Alex couldn’t explain how. There had to be some supernatural fae aspect to it. She could hear the rapid pounding of Cass’s heart, but it was hard to discern anything wrong besides the obvious. Her eyes were darting around the morgue and the werewolf wasn’t sure what she was seeing. She could only hope it wasn’t anything too bad, but if it meant Cass would live, she guessed whatever it was had to be worth it. 

After what felt like an eternity, Cass thanked the doctor and locked eyes with Alex. It was the briefest glance before she watched the oread fully slump onto the table. The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding came out as a small gasp and she felt everything she’d been compartmentalizing threatening to spill over with it. She took in a slow breath before looking up to Regan. “Dr. Kavanagh,” she started hesitantly. She wasn’t sure where to begin or what to say. All she could think was to express her gratitude, even if Regan would tell her it was foolish. “Thank you,” she said finally, “Really. You saved her. I–”

The words ‘almost lost her’ found themselves trapped in her throat and came out as a strangled sound. It was a floodgate that Alex couldn’t allow herself to open just yet so she shook her head. “I just appreciate it and I’m glad you’re still here.” Aside from the fact Cass would have likely literally died in her arms, she did like Regan. “Anything I need to do for her as far as healing and taking care of her goes, I’m all ears.” 

—

There wasn’t anything left for Kaden to do to help Cass. He was just as helpless as she was to fix her at that moment. He stood back and tried not to be in the way. Alex was there to comfort her girlfriend, Regan was there to heal her, and as much as he wanted to peer over her shoulder and see what was going on, check if it was working, he knew better. Hovering could only make it worse if anything at all. 

Now that his part was done, his mind drifted to the cause of her wounds, the blood covering Alex’s clothes. A warden. Another hunter. Kaden had to wonder if it was someone he knew. His stomach dropped as the face of the hunter dying at Andy’s hand flashed into his memory. Would he see that same look all over again? Would it be at his hands this time? Or Alex’s? Had she already killed him? He didn’t know. He didn’t want this to keep happening. Death. Over and over again. A snake eating its tail. And Kaden didn’t know how to stop it when all he knew how to do was how to slice it in half. 

The gasp from the fae on the table pulled his focus back to the present. His own breath stopped as he waited to see what would happen next – would she pull through or would she pass out again? He reached out and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder, hoping to give some comfort to her while she was giving all hers away to Cass. 

The words ‘thank you’ felt like a sigh of relief, a sign that the course had corrected itself. For now. “Good work,” he said to Regan. “See, way better than a hospital.” He had no idea what it was she did, but he knew it worked. That was enough for him. But now that they were in the clear, thoughts of the hunter and the potentially dead body in the woods lingered. Putain. His eyes darted to Alex, then back to the medical examiner. He opened his mouth to speak. “I, uh, when you have a second I need to talk to–” He knew what he should do, he should report the potential dead body. Alex wouldn’t be implicated. She couldn’t. Right? It’s not like she was human when she did it. Actually, he didn’t know. He just assumed. 

He owed it to the hunter to say something, owed it to his family, but he owed Alex more. He couldn’t risk it. “Nevermind,” he said, waving it off. “Thanks again. Hopefully you won’t see me here again anytime soon.” He glanced back to Alex and gave her a nod. “Come on, let’s get her back home so she can rest.” 

—

Something was happening to Cass – her eyes went wide and scanned the room as if she was looking for something or seeing something, and Regan watched in silence for a moment. Whatever it was seemed to pass, but that didn’t mean it was the last of it. She glanced down to the empty jar, the remnants of the cream clinging to the neck of it. Do not let it be a mistake. The child was increasingly lucid, though, which had to be a good sign. Her other injuries were minor in comparison, and Regan bandaged them up, confident they needed no further attention from her. Cass was certainly benefiting from the diligent attention of her girlfriend, though. Probably an ill-advised relationship, if Cass’s lifespan was anything like that of a banshee’s. But happiness was a rare and often hard-won thing, and she would not spoil theirs, however useless she felt the emotion to be. Yes. Useless. Of course it was. She suppressed the trickle of doubt.

As Cass roused herself up and the two of them thanked her, Regan shook her head. Their gratitude was less than ideal – or at least the language used to express it, was. She let the thank yous linger, not accepting them nor chastising right now. “It’s not over yet. You have a lot of healing to do, and there may be lingering effects from the wound and what I applied to it. Monitor it closely and come to me if anything unexpected occurs.” Her voice lowered, something soft squirming through her that she barely recognized and did not particularly like. “I didn’t save her. I think you did that. Or perhaps she saved herself.”

And then there was Kaden. “I do not need your ‘good job’.” She narrowed her eyes at him. Demeaning. And what followed pulled at her temper, however much she tried to deny it. “Or your jokes. You come here instead of the hospital and you tell me good job.” Regan wrinkled her nose at him, but Cass was too much a priority for her aggravation at the remark to persist. Did Kaden have something to tell her? Or was he trying to tell something to Alex or Cass? She wasn’t going to figure it out now, apparently, as he seemed to cut himself off. Later, then. Maybe he was trying to tell her there was something to discuss later. She turned to address all three of them. “Not that you chose poorly, in this very specific instance. But we are not done here. Today, right now, we are, because… well, she is asleep.” Regan motioned toward Cass, whose eyes were shut and who looked entirely like a rock again. “But we will need to discuss this attempted murder. I don’t need another victim in here.”

—

Adrenaline was a funny thing. In the absence of an immediate threat and the knowledge Cass would be okay, the rush that had been pushing her forward had melted into lead. Or maybe peridotite would be more accurate. The metaphorical density of her bones was hardly the point, but Alex knew they felt heavy. So did the blood and flakes of rock on her skin. And her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the firm kick from Rhett or the weight of what had just happened catching up to her somehow, but now it was sinking. 

Then the hand on her shoulder reminded Alex she didn’t have to carry this alone. Even as Kaden spoke again, there was something decisive in his tone. He knew as well as she did that Regan would have questions. She didn’t mind that so much. Even if Regan seemed to follow the letter of the law, she knew about this stuff. She was part of this stuff. She’d seen firsthand what Rhett had done to Cass. Even if the medical examiner did insist on going the official route, she doubted claw marks could truly be traced back to her. Plus, she was pretty sure some logic or law of self defense was on her side. There was a chance she killed him, but he’d been the one to lift the knife. She’s given him every chance. Her gaze drifted to her sleeping girlfriend and she couldn’t help but think maybe she’d given him too many chances. 

That thought hurt to linger on so Alex instead aptly listened to the doctor’s instructions. She’d need to monitor Cass closely. She could do that. Hell, she wasn’t sure it’d be so much a choice on her part. As tired as she was, she didn’t think she’d find sleep in the coming hours. She’d nodded diligently and had been prepared to accept the instructions as they were, but then there was something there again. It was the tiniest glimpse of something less cold in her eyes. It was brief and if the doctor’s words hadn’t matched that slight etch of something warmer in her features, she would have doubted she saw it all. “Oh,” she uttered with wide eyes. She hadn’t expected that. Dr. Kavanagh had called her a good child once, but this held something more. She saved someone. She saved Cass. She wasn’t too soft. She was soft and she’d protected those parts of herself by protecting the person who brought them out the most. And Cass saved herself too. She was proud of her for pushing through that pain so Dr. Kavanagh could treat her wounds even if the oread never should have experienced that pain in the first place.

If the creeping exhaustion hadn’t fully made itself at home in her body, Alex would have nudged her cousin. It wasn’t lost on her that jokes in the face of traumatic incidents was a shared family trait. Pointing it now wouldn’t hold the same satisfaction, especially not when there was something so comfortable in it for her. Dr. Kavanagh didn’t seem to appreciate it though. That wasn’t entirely surprising and if she wasn’t so tired, she’d feel bad that Kaden seemed to be taking the brunt of her frustration when all he did was drive the car. “We’ll get her home,” she assured, “Once she’s settled, I’ll answer anything you want to know. He won’t do this again.”

Alex didn’t know if he was dead, but some part of her knew he probably should be. That spark of hatred in his eyes was too familiar. She knew the only thing that put it out was blood. Or at least, if there had been some other answer, she wasn’t privy to it. If love had been enough, she had to think it would have made a difference with her parents. It didn’t matter anyway. She gave Cass’s hand one final squeeze before she moved aside to let Kaden pick her back up so they could go home. “You’re gonna be okay,” she whispered to the oread she knew couldn’t hear her, “I got you. We got you.” 

Because even if she couldn’t hear it, Alex still felt it was important to remind Cass she wasn’t alone in the world. Not anymore. 

[casscainmainly]

Hi!

I just saw your most recent post and duke and dick beef?

i want to hear more about that yes please

DUKE AND DICK BEEF!!! You can refer to this post I made about why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater, this is a semi-joke post so some of the reasons are less serious than others but it encapsulates most of the reasons I think Duke would have beef with Dick!!

The thing about Duke-Dick beef to me is that it's not about Dick being a cop. A lot of people focus on that but like, Dick is so far removed from being a cop at this point and it's not really a core part of his philosophy. Would Duke throw his cop past in Dick's face during an argument/when he's feeling petty? Absolutely!! But the core of Duke-Dick haterisms is rooted in the events of Robin War, Dick's treatment of Duke + his friends, and their similar + differing ideologies around Robin and life in general.

This post I made dives further into those similarities/differences. I think performance vs. honesty is a HUGE one, and one Duke would struggle with (see his reaction to the possibility of Bruce's manipulations in Batman & The Signal, Cursed Wheel, and Dark Days). The contrasting light imagery (the spotlight vs. 'bringing things to light') would ALSO slap if a DC writer did something about it. I just think a beef would make their dynamic super interesting, allowing writers to explore the aftermath of Robin War + Duke's ties to the Robin mantle as a whole, which Dick (as the original Robin) would represent!

(Also Signal is analogous to Nightwing, but it's also analogous to Dick's Robin. A new identity chosen because of a mother... the bright colours... the focus on being perceived as a 'signal' or a showman... DC PLEASE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS)

[aingeal98]

The concept of all Cass's original civilian clothes she wears when she first debuts being hand me downs from Babs or extra clothes Babs found around Gotham, so Cass just assumes it's fashion for things to either be overly baggy or overly short and just buys a bunch of crop tops and jeans three sizes too big for her. And she just never stops, if the clothes actually fit her perfectly she hates them. Baggy or too short, no in-between.

[lar-mx]

El murciélago bañado por las sombras y el ángel de la muerte (Nombre temporal).

Entonces tengo esta idea loca desde hace unas horas.

El Surgimiento de la idea:

en algún momento escuche este concepto de que cada persona tiene su propio ángel de la muerte el cual se encarga de recoger el alma de la persona fallecida cuando llega su hora, a veces cuando alguien enfrenta una situación en la que casi muere, realmente muere por un tiempo o uno de esos momento donde su vida pasa frente a sus ojos por así decirlo pueden verlo.

la mayoría no lo recuerda y los pocos que si lo hacen no hablan de ello.

esto anterior mas un recuerdo vago de un capitulo de un fic de DP donde danny escribe un poema acerca de una platica que tubo con la muerte donde esta le dice que no puede llevarse a danny (aunque no recuerdo si es porque danny es el rey fantasma o por ser un halfa).

La Idea como tal:

de estas dos ideas se me ocurrió lo siguiente.

Danny siendo el angel de la muerte de cass, pero si bien danny es el angel de la muerte de cass el nunca podra llevarla al lugar que le corresponda para descansar por la eternidad y si te preguntas el porque pues porque el destino y la vida se niegan a dejar morir y descansar a ciertas personas.

Por fortuna(?) la mayoría de los héroes son algunas de estas personas y por desgracia(?) un buen numero de villanos también.

la situación es tal que no importa el que o el como pero esa persona selecciona escapara de apenas con vida de una muerte segura o volverá a la vida unos segundo, unos minutos o algunos meses e incluso algunos años después.

el método para que vuelvan puede ser cualquiera pero al final siempre escapan de las manos de su ángel de la muerte.

cass es una de esas pocas personas que pueden recordar a su ángel de la muerte.

aquí es donde por mi parte pierdo el hilo de como quiero escribir ( jaja no puedo escribirlo aunque mi vida dependa de ello) esta idea.

Porque por un lado me encantaría que esto fuera un cass x danny donde los únicos momento donde ellos pueden interactuar y hablar es cuando cass esta en una situación cercana a la muerte pero nunca podran estar verdaderamente juntos por que el destino y las propias convicciones de cass le impiden morir o permanecer muerta.

lo que me lleva a la idea de que cass escriba cartas o poemas para su ángel(?) para dárselos en esos raros momento en los que se encuentran, pero el problema es que cass es demasiado buena para enfrentar regularmente ese tipo de situaciones donde se puedan encontrar.

y por otro lado esta la idea de que sean algo asi como amigos y/o danny sea una especie de mentor de cass desde que ella era joven y escapo de las garras de su progenitor.

ya que cuando era mas joven enfrento varias llamadas cercanas debido a la desnutrición y/o enfermedades debido andar escapando la mayor parte del tiempo de la persecución de david (creo que así se llama).

estoy seguro que existen otras rutas para llevar esto e incluso otros barcos, pero con mis habilidades actuales no puedo llevar a cabo esta idea asique la comparto con ustedes para que agreguen o la usen a su antojo.

Saludos.

tag some people I follow, in case they like the concept.->

@satoshy12 @zylev-blog @bet-on-me-13 @hdgnj @dcxdpdabbles @wandixx

[happygirl2oo2]

My fandom aesthetic boards - an organized ongoing list

📖 The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

📖 The Shadowhunter Chronicles by Cassandra Clare

📖 Shades Of Magic (including the additions in the Threads of Power books) by V.E. Schwab

📖 Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan

📖 The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan

📖 Written In The Stars by Alexandria Bellefleur

📖 The Inheritance Games & The Grandest Game by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

📖 The Naturals by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

📖 Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

📖 The Montague Siblings series by Mackenzi Lee

📖 Fortunate Misfortune (Clear Lake Quartet Book 1) by Miah Onsha

📖 Those Who Wait by Haley Cass

📖 When You Least Expect It by Haley Cass

📖 The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

📖 Spoiler Alert interconnected book series by Olivia Dade

📖 Fence comic series (and the tie-in novels by Sarah Rees Brennan) by C.S. Pacat and Johanna the Mad

📖 Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

📖 The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

📺 Fitzsimmons (from the TV show Agents of Shield)

📺 Elementary

📺 Dr. Maura Isles (from the TV show Rizzoli & Isles)

📺 Bull

[thegraveyardshifts]

@cassjthompson

Location: French Quarter, Mardi Gras.

There's a literal, little hole in the wall framed by open shutters with peeling paint and a hand painted menu next to it that displays drinks with a 2 for 1 offer due to the carnival season. Cleo doesn't even bother to join the que that's formed beside the hatch where a bearded man takes orders and then hands out drinks in plastic cups with pretty parasols and fresh fruit garnish. She just says a name all too sharply to catch said mans attention and laughs afterwards, conversing with a friend and skipping the que. Coming away with 2 overly-filled cups of hurricane, she takes a sip and sighs before glancing over and making eye-contact with a woman. A part of Cleo says fuck it, raising the other cocktail up and smiling warmly. "You want one? I can't finish both, they're too sweet,"

[ameliiorate]

☀︎ — random starter #1 for @romanticlcver

"Has anyone clued you in yet about who I am?" It's far from an ideal introduction, and Javier is compelled to give her a thorough run-down while also not wanting to be too verbose and throw the princess into a spiral. Cass has had to endure going through a line of people who are now suddenly relevant to a royal life that she had not been exposed to until now. "I'm Javier Davies. Bodyguard, at your service." A hand extends to her, the other resting at his hip. On the holster that housed his gun. "Consider me your shadow of sorts, but do not worry. If I do my job well," And he always has striven to be the perfect, statue-esque bodyguard, "You won't even notice that I'm here." While he has heard whispers of the wild life that Cass had lived prior to her being aware of her lineage, he assumes that she will take her responsibilities seriously. That is because he does not know her yet.

[cpunkwitch]

THERE IS NO COP INSIDE YOUR HEAD

Stop telling people phrases like this

It's intrusive thoughts and phrases like that can be extremely dangerous to someone with something like ocd

Your thoughts are not bad, no one controls your thoughts and you can't 'police' your own thoughts either

Thoughts and feelings are not wrong, there is no right or wrong just a human experience.

You're safe, you're fine, you're okay.

Imposter syndrome and intrusive thoughts are an ass to handle, I know, but using phrases like "the cop inside your head" is horrible.

Unless you're a system and one of your parts or alters is a police officer, introject or otherwise, don't say shit like this.

You don't have to try and monitor your thoughts like that, you'll just keep tearing yourself up over the smallest intrusive thought through a never ending spiral.

Thoughts are not crimes. There's no law anywhere about *thinking*, let your brain process things, you're not guilty of anything. You. Are. Okay.

And you'll keep being okay. I promise.

[ask-elland-n-will]

[Continuation of this]

There have been quite a few Halloween costume nominations this evening, and to Will's frustration, Cassandra's triumph, and Liam's indifference — not all of them were presented by Villiam the Vampire alone. Will fought tooth and nail for the very last nomination of the night to be hisss as he was scanning the crowd for a certain someone, hoping they won't leave or change their outfit until the big reveal.

The Ravenclaw prefect, dressed as a Cheshire Cat with an opposite of a permanent grin on his whiskered face, prepares the rosettes stating "Best Thematic Duo" while Villiam takes the centre-stage once again.

"Please, velcome ze last thematic couple of ze night! The award for the best thematic collaboration goes to—!" Will pauses on purpose and just so happens to spot the people he needs. The vampire gets his wand out and shots a charm which pops harmless soundless fireworks above @ask-andrew-montrose and @theodoradevlin's heads.

"Theodora Devlin as The Straw Man and Andrew Montrose as Dorothy Gale!" he finally announces. "The unofficial jury is unsure whether Montrose's recent cat transformation counts as part of the costume but we are happy to see that he kept the bow afterall!"

Villiam and the others start clapping loudly along with music as they wait for the winners to come up on the stage. The little snake wasn't sure if Andrew would try to escape, so attracting everyone's attention with a little charm earlier was a must in his eyes.

[heckblade]

wip ask game: needle & thread bly manor AU please? 👀

oooh yes! I answered another ask about this WIP a while back with a short summary, and while I don't yet have a snippet worthy of sharing, I loooove to talk about the parallels between needle & thread and bly manor and what I want to do with it

I've been sitting on this idea since episode 2 of needle & thread aired. there's this blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment where spenser describes jean seeing a vision of avery choi over someone's shoulder. spenser talked about mike flanagan being an inspiration for the campaign and I felt it so much in that moment. had this little interaction with spenser about it on twitter:

in the break before ep 3 aired, I decided to rewatch bly manor, and ended up finishing my rewatch the day after episode 3. and truly, the narrative parallels are off the charts.

what compels me about flanagan's work is that the house is haunted, but the people are haunted, too. solving the mystery of the supernatural entity that has its claws in this place almost takes a backseat to understanding and confronting the ghosts that each person brings with them to live under the same roof.

needle & thread takes a similar approach, but I want to bring those characters into a singular space where all their ghosts can interact. jinnah, the surgeon, haunted by the one person she couldn't save. sean, the weapon, haunted by the version of himself he was carved into during the war. beatrix, the caretaker, haunted by the children she was never able to bear. nathaniel, the detective, haunted by the mystery of what happened to alison and antonio suarez in this house. and marion, the gardener, haunted by the emptiness in his chest and the thing that took something important from him, here in his garden, all those years ago.

not to mention that I think it will be really nice to give some room to jean and marion's romance without detracting from the ultimate tragedy of it. in canon, their love for each other is fucking cosmic and beautiful, but god damn it, we deserve to see them fall in love and be happy together (at least for a little while)!!!

"you said it was a ghost story. it isn't. it's a love story." "same thing, really." you know?

[letsbenditlikebennett]

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @ironcladrhett @magmahearts & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Rhett can sense there's a fae nearby and ends up following Cass towards the Magmacave where she's meeting Alex for date night. Having met Rhett before, Cass is friendly... Rhett? Not so much. CONTENT: Eye trauma, unsanitary (blood)

Date night was something Cass took pretty seriously now that she had a designated date night partner. There were so many things Alex hadn’t experienced throughout her life — an unfortunate side effect of her upbringing and her parents, the oread knew. It made her angry to think about, sometimes, made her upset to know that her girlfriend had suffered so much under the ‘care’ of people who made an active effort not to understand her… but it also meant she got to be the one to help rectify that. And that wasn’t all bad. She could show Alex the best movies, introduce her to the coolest comics. She got to be there to see the way the other girl’s face lit up when she experienced all of that for the first time, and that was a good thing.

It also meant that Cass was bound and determined to make everything as special as she could. She knew what Alex liked now, and she always made an effort to make sure she had as much of it as possible. Everything in the Magmacave was ready for a new kind of movie night. A projector she’d ‘acquired’ from Walmart that worked with her phone, a bunch of snacks she’d stored away just for this moment, blankets and pillows of every shape and size… It was bound to be one for the history books, she thought. She was just finishing up her very last snack run before Alex’s arrival, grocery bags slung over her arms as she made her way back to the cave with the less ‘nonperishable’ of movie night snacks. It was perfect. It was going to be perfect. 

She walked towards the cave with a spring in her step, pausing momentarily at the sound of something rustling behind her. If this was a monster that was going to ruin movie night — or worse, try to steal her carefully acquired snacks — she was going to be mad. Cass turned around, putting a hand to her hip as she prepared to scare off whatever animal was there, only to come face to face with a man instead. He looked familiar, though it took her a moment to place him. “Hey, I know you. You were at Alan’s that one time, right? With the pool!” She offered him a bright smile. “You probably shouldn’t be out here at night time. There’s animals and stuff in the woods, you know? You don’t wanna get eaten!”

—

It had been happenstance, really, that he saw the fae girl at the store. He’d not even been inside, but walking past outside when he felt that familiar, horrible feeling that accompanied the presence of fae. Diverting his path and forgoing whatever plans he’d had in mind, Rhett followed the sensation until the girl was in his sights, then tailed her at a respectable distance. She seemed distracted, which was good, or she might’ve noticed sooner that she had a shadow that was following her out of town and towards the Flat. He dropped back even further as their location became more and more remote, careful to just use his senses to keep track of her, even when he couldn’t see her. Not like his eyes were much fucking good, anyway.

She stopped, he stopped. Must have reached her destination, then. Or—oh. No. She’d spotted him. But she wasn’t scared, she was smiling. She recognized him. 

He managed to mirror the emotion, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Aye, with the pool,” he confirmed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “That so? Well, don’t worry, I think I can handle any ol’ animal what wants to tango with me,” the warden chuckled. He glanced past her at the cave, brow raised. “You live in there?” he asked. “No judgment… live out the van, myself. Cool cave.”

—

What was he doing out here, she wondered? Had he seen her and grown concerned? It wasn’t entirely unheard of for people to worry when they saw someone Cass’s age walking alone into the woods at night, and he had met her at Alan’s, so maybe he felt some… silly sense of responsibility. It might have been exciting if she didn’t know it would likely be a temporary thing. Most adults only cared about a kid until it stopped being convenient for them to do so, and she doubted Alan’s boyfriend was any different in that regard. 

She glanced back to the cave with a shrug, opting not to answer the question verbally. He said he wouldn’t judge, but… Wait. He lived in a van? Cass squinted at him. Hadn’t Aria said the man who’d put her in his van had long gray hair, too? Uneasiness crept down the oread’s spine, but she was quick to shove it away. Alan trusted this guy, and Alex trusted Alan. It was probably just a coincidence, wasn’t it? “What are you doing out here, anyway? Just walking around? It’s kind of late for a hike, moke.” She let her tone take on a teasing lilt in spite of her uneasiness. It wasn’t fair to be suspicious of him, not really. Driving a van and having long hair wasn’t a crime or anything.

—

“Oh, night time walks are pretty much the only thing keepin' me sane these days,” Rhett laughed, though the gesture of friendliness didn't quite meet his eyes. It never seemed to, these days. He thought about how he needed to get in closer without spooking her off, and decided to lean into the misinterpretation she and Alex had had regarding his relationship with Alan. Or lack thereof, if you were the type that cared about semantics. Rhett was not one of those people. 

“Anyway, Alan says it's good fer me, so here I am. Walkin' out all the ol' troubles.” He was doing a pretty good job of being convincing, or so he thought. “Spotted you not far back... sorry I didn't call out sooner. Didn't wanna scare you. Guess followin' you ain't a much better choice, eh? Whoops.” He shrugged. “Say, Alex ain't around, is she? Been meanin' to ask her for a wee favor in regards to the grumpy ol' man back home, but ah... if she's here, could just get it outta the way now. You know how it is, I ain't great with the technology.” Now he was just lying, but it didn't really matter if this fae was going to die in the next ten minutes, did it? Besides, he felt this was a pretty decent way of making sure she was alone before moving in for the kill. Or... kidnapping. Again? Couldn't rightly kill her here, what if someone else did show up? What then? No, there'd have to be a secondary location. Didn't matter much where, just not here.

—

Old people did like night time walks, actually. Cass was pretty sure she’d seen commercials featuring old people walking at night while a disembodied voice read off a list of potential side effects, so it made sense that Rhett would rely on them. They probably kept him feeling young, or whatever. 

The oread softened a little at the mention of Alan, too, thinking of the two of them at Alex’s mentor’s house the night with the pink pool. Most of it was a little hazy — in retrospect, she so should have recognized the whole ‘high on mushrooms’ thing way before she had — but she remembered thinking they seemed good together. Balanced each other out, in a way, with Alan’s seriousness and Rhett’s willingness to join in on her and Alex’s little game.

“Yeeeaaah,” she said with a small laugh, “following a girl alone in the woods at night isn’t the best way to avoid scaring her, dude. But that’s okay.” At the mention of her girlfriend, she perked up a little. “Oh, she’s not here right now, but we’re meeting up later. I could pass along the message for you? No offense, but I don’t really want you crashing date night with my girl.” She wrinkled her nose at him, a teasing glint in her eye. 

—

“Ah! Of course, totally get that, no problem. Here, ah…” He patted his pockets for a second before fishing out a scrap of paper and a pen. “I’ll write it down just in case, howzat?” Not giving her much time to respond, the warden scribbled… well, nothing. It was just scribbles. Clicking the pen shut, he pocketed it again before folding the paper and closing the distance to hand it to Cass. “‘Preciate it, kid.” 

As he held out his hand, waiting for her to accept the paper, his heartbeat quickened. And when she mirrored the motion to take it, he struck out like a viper. The paper was dropped as that hand came to circle her wrist instead, the other jumping to her throat. He wasted no time with words, simply twisting them both around until he stood behind her, pinning her arms to her own torso while the other jumped to cover her mouth and stop her screaming. Alex was coming, and there was no telling when she’d arrive. Couldn’t stay here. Rhett began to back away from the cave entrance, dragging the nymph into the brush with some difficulty but not too much, thanks to his superior strength.

—

“Oh, that’s a really good idea!” If he wrote it down, they wouldn’t have to play the telephone game and whatever it was he needed to say wouldn’t have to go through Cass before getting to Alex. She’d probably have a hard time remembering it; when Alex was around, most of Cass’s thoughts were reduced to the gay kind. Rhett writing his thing down was a relief, and she waited patiently as he scribbled. It looked like it was probably going to be messy — she hoped Alex would be able to read it.

When he held out the page, she flashed him a quick grin and reached for it. But before her fingers could close against the paper, he grabbed her. His hand around her wrist was like a vice grip, too tight and bruising. The way he twisted her arm behind her hurt, too; she felt something snap under the pressure, but the resulting scream was muffled by the sudden presence of a second hand covering her mouth. The pain was momentarily blinding, and she checked out for half a second. When she was back to herself, she was already moving. Already being moved. He was dragging her away from the cave, and that was bad. She needed to be in the cave. She didn’t understand what he was doing or why, but she knew she didn’t want it, so she fought back. She kicked at his knees as best she could, tried to bite the hand over her mouth. Her glamour dropped, and she kept screaming throughout even though it was muffled. What was this? Why was he doing this? She didn’t understand.

—

Nearly the whole trek to the magmacave, Alex found herself wishing that she could convince Cass to stay at the cabin with her. She wasn't under some illusion that anywhere in Wicked's Rest was safe, but she at least knew there was no goo at the cabin for the time being. Every time she saw one of the faces around town, entrapped in the sludge that hardened around them, Alex couldn't help but see Cass. The pure black of the sludge was different from the obsidian and magma that made up her girlfriend. Light didn't catch the abnormality or the sludge in quite the same way. It was like there was only darkness there and it scared the hell out of her. She supposed that was part of the problem now. Her heart was too full. There were too many who's single misstep into the goo could break her. She didn't want to keep being a broken thing, not when she was only starting to piece together what she looked like as whole. 

Still, Alex wasn't going to let her own worries ruin date night. She was dating a superhero, a little bit of danger came with the territory. If she stopped Cass from protecting her cave, she'd be asking for her to give up some fundamental to who she was. It was part of her. That bravery and dedication to protecting her little piece of nature was something Alex loved about Cass. She found her cheeks grew flush at the thought and she held the little pouch of rocks she'd collected close to her chest. 

Her feet followed the familiar path to the cave and Alex smiled at the way she knew the way like the back of her own hand now. It was a pretty thought that was rudely interrupted as she heard what sounded like a whisper of a scream, as if it had been stamped or drowned out, and she felt something shift in her. All of her senses went into overdrive and she followed the sound of footsteps and dragging ahead past the cave. 

Part of her wanted to call out, but Alex didn't dare alert anyone to her presence. She could hear sounds and while there was no scream that followed, something heavy was dragging against the forest floor along with the footsteps and she had to follow it. She could smell Cass and something else vaguely familiar. 

She ran past the cave with careful steps. Alex moved as quickly as she could, avoiding patches of dead leaves that would crumble under her steps and alert someone to her presence. It had been a good move because when she rounded a tree, she was taken aback by what she saw. Cass's glamour was off and she could see a charred mark around her wrist. 

Then there was Rhett, holding her by the throat with hand over her mouth and Alex felt sick. What was this? She knew. Part of her knew right away, but it couldn't be right. Cass wasn't a monster to be hunted. It didn't compute in her mind despite what her eyes were showing her. Her eyes had to be betraying her. 

“Cass,” she called, “Rhett.” She looked between the two, begging for the picture to adjust and show her anything else, but it never did. Her fists clenched at her side and her features hardened as she found herself glaring at the warden. “Let go of her,” she demanded coldly, “Now.“ 

—

Rhett paid the screams no mind, determined to get Cass away from the cave mouth before someone came along. Someone like Alex. But, as was typical of late, the universe had other ideas, and those ideas consisted of throwing as massive a wrench in his plans as possible. 

Goddamnit.

“Doin’ you a favor, kid.” There was no surprise in Alex’s voice to see the nymph looking the way it did now, glamour dropped. That didn’t make things easier. She was a fae sympathizer. Fuck. Well, there was no point in trying to haul it off somewhere else before killing it, now. The thought that it might traumatize Alex to see her friend be killed crossed his mind but he didn’t care—just like he didn’t care about the fact that this would certainly… complicate things. He’d be alienating himself again. From Alex, which was no great loss, but then also probably from Alan, who he had a feeling she’d tattle on him to. That one hurt a little, but there was nothing to be done about it. The fae had to go. He’d wanted to see if it knew of anyone in the area named Ophelia, but that wasn’t gonna happen now. No, all he could do was draw his iron dagger and press it to Cass’ temple, his battle-hardened gaze fixed on Alex.

“Go on, nymph. Tell yer girl here how you’ve definitely never ever hurt someone. Definitely never killed anyone with yer promise binds.” It was literally a shot in the dark, but honestly, Rhett had met more fae that had killed with their words than he’d met ones that hadn’t. Not that it mattered, not that it’d stop him from burying that blade in the creature’s skull. But maybe, just maybe, it’d give Alex some clarity on the situation.

—

She was afraid, and she hated that. She hated the way her heart was pounding, the fact that she couldn’t think straight. She was a superhero. She was supposed to be a superhero. And what good was a superhero if she was trembling? What was a terrified hero worth? 

(About as much as a dead one, she thought, and if the hand around her throat was any indication, she’d be that soon, too.)

She kicked and struggled and screamed against the hand still pressed over her mouth, but Rhett was strong. It was like he didn’t notice her struggles at all, like she was a fly pounding against a glass someone had trapped her in. Her arm hurt where he’d twisted it; she thought she could feel bones grinding together in a way they really shouldn’t have been, like maybe something had broken. And the only thought her half-hysterical mind could come up with was that she’d never had an x-ray before. She’d only ever seen them on TV.

There was a quiet vibration of approaching footsteps, muted by her panic. She screamed against Rhett’s hand again, as loud as she could, and it was shameful. She wasn’t someone who needed saving. She was supposed to be the one who did the saving, supposed to be brave and fearless and invincible. But she saw a flash of red hair cutting through the brush, and all she could feel was a crushing relief because Alex was here. Alex was here, and Cass would be safe because Alex wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

The hand covering her mouth vanished, but Cass had only a moment to bask in the relief of it before something cold pressed against her temple. Even without the sharpness actually being driven in, the mere presence of the metal against her skin hurt. She didn’t understand it for a moment. Not until she remembered what Alex and Teagan had told her about fae and iron, about how there were metals made to kill her. Cass froze all at once, terrified that any continued struggle might make that blade find its home in her skull.

Rhett spoke; she felt the vibration of his voice rise up from his chest, like a dragon growling into the darkness. Her heart stuttered, because how had he known about that? How did he know about Kuma? Her eyes darted to Alex, fear suffocating her just as much as the hand gripping her throat. If Alex knew, would she leave Cass here? Would she walk away the same way everyone always had? 

“How many people have you killed?” She ground out, her voice distorted by the lack of glamour and strained by the hand around her throat. “You want to — want to talk about hurting people? You’re the one with the knife.”

Avoidance. It was a good way to lie without lying. Cass had always been so good at that.

—

There was a breath of a second where Alex found herself unable to move. She didn't trust herself to move. Every muscle in her body was already tensed as she watched the pained, contorted expression on Cass's face and the way Rhett seemed almost amused by it. Her arrival seemed to be more an annoyance than anything else and she wasn't sure she had ever felt so much anger coursing through her. It took everything in her to not snarl and pounce the moment she saw him, but maybe he didn't know. 

How could Rhett know that Cass was a superhero? How could he know that she spent her nights looking for people to help? She was good, maybe if he knew that, it'd make a difference. She wanted so badly for it to make a difference.

It was naive. Alex knew as much. Without the beard, there was no hiding the determined look on his face. There was a stubbornness in the tightness of his jaw that she recognized too well and even his touch was hurting Cass. “You're not doing anyone any favors here,” she spat, “Cass is good. She saves people and picks up litter... Doesn't look like you bothered to ask that though.” 

Because Alex knew that when he happened upon her, Cass hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary. She was at the cave, probably about to get it all set up for their date night. She wasn't hurting anybody and here he was, holding her tightly in his grip like she was a thing that needed to be put down. He wouldn't even say her name. Her fists curled into balls at her side. “I don't need a man to tell me anything about my girl,” she barked out, “I know everything I need to know about Cass and she's good.” 

'Unlike you,' she thought bitterly. 

But then the iron blade was pressing into Cass's temple and Alex knew this was useless. That look in Rhett's eyes reminded her too much of her father's. There was no reasoning with that look and suddenly all the anger she had finally allowed herself to feel towards her parents had a convenient outlet. 

Alex let the green backpack slide off her shoulder and into the mess of fallen leaves on the ground. She thought of warning the warden this was his last chance to get away unscathed, but a warning was more kindness than Rhett deserved. Even with her true face, stony as it was, Alex could see the fear in her glowing eyes and her voice was so strained. He did that. 

She didn't let her eyes leave Rhett as she focused on the shift. Alex had been practicing and even had some success when it came to tracking down Gael with Ren, but she always closed her eyes when she pictured her own shift. She found she couldn't do that now and her glare remained trained on Rhett as she focused on the feelings in her body. She felt the ground beneath her boots and concentrated on how it felt when it was the forest floor beneath her paws. She imagined Rhett as the moose, muscles and sinew pulling apart beneath her claws and teeth. She remembered that feeling of connection that came with being part of a pack and how she felt more connected to Cass than any of the werewolves she knew. 

Alex tuned into how the werewolf in her felt when it was protecting Alan and she felt the claws emerging from her fingers. It stung lightly in the way they ripped from her skin, but it felt almost natural now, like slipping out of her sports bra at the end of a long day. Her bones creaked under her and red tufts of fur emerged from her skin, but icy blue eyes stayed trained on the warden, as if she could pounce mid shift if he so much as moved another inch to hurt Cass. 

She stood taller once her bones all shifted into place and drool was already hanging from angry jowls as she snarled at the warden. One last chance, the wolf thought. If her mark moved a muscle, she would tear out his gut and leave him there on the forest floor. 

—

“I don’t kill people, I kill abominations. I kill killers. S’what I was made for.” Rhett’s expression was callous, his heart unsympathetic to the claims that the nymph in his grasp had done good things in its life. That didn’t matter, that didn’t make up for the bad. Hell, it didn’t even make up for the potential bad, as far as he was concerned. That was what he’d been taught. They’d all do bad, given enough time. It wasn't their fault, not entirely. It was just in their nature. But that didn’t mean he had to sit by and let it happen. And he wouldn’t, not if he could help it. Not ever. 

There was something about Alex’s body language that felt threatening, and soon enough, the warden was made to see why. Ah. Well… that was… a surprise. His eyes narrowed, his grip on the fae tightening. He didn’t have a lot of experience fighting werewolves, or at least… not shifted ones. He knew a bite from one would be his undoing, if it didn’t kill him. Which it seemed like Alex kind of wanted to do. Couldn’t blame her. Didn’t change anything, except that he’d have to try and kill her as well. 

Hey, at least then maybe the news wouldn’t make it back to Alan. Silver linings. 

The werewolf was staring him down like he’d be an easy meal, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what he looked like to the supernatural things he killed. Hm. Wasn’t really food for thought. To the matter at hand—Rhett wrenched his arm up beneath the oread’s chin to hold its head in place so he could drive the blade into its temple, but he’d barely pierced the soft, thin space between rocky plates when the werewolf adjacent to him leaped forward, claws reaching out and slashing across his face, massive digits hooking around his head and ripping him away from the nymph. His blade did find purchase, but it was in the top of the fae’s shoulder, digging deep before his grip on it yanked it back out as he was thrown to the forest floor. He screamed, not out of fear but out of anger, feeling the adrenaline dump in his system as he wrestled with the beast atop him, trying to avoid a bite from those slobbering jaws.

—

Abominations. Killers. The words were hurled out in a way that was so matter of fact, not even spoken to Cass. Like she wasn’t worth speaking to at all, like she was nothing. She thought of the nymphs back on the island who’d never seen her as anything more than an inconvenience, of the kids she’d met throughout her ‘adventures’ as a homeless teen who were lost and traumatized just like she was and didn’t know how to get away from that without using someone else as a stepping stone. She thought of Kuma, of the look on her face when she’d finally seen Cass in her true form, of the fear in her eyes when she spat out the word monster instead of her name and told her never to come back. 

So many people, throughout her life, had treated her like she was nothing at all. She’d been a problem in the making in Hawai’i, a ticking timebomb whose eruption no one had wanted to be in the blast zone of. After, when she’d found herself alone on the mainland, she’d been largely ignored. Homeless kids were hard to look at, after all. They made people feel ways they didn’t like feeling, and it was so much easier for someone to avert their gaze than it was to do anything to help. Kuma hadn’t been a bad person, either, not really. She’d been afraid, but not malicious. Cass had just been a little too much for her, the same way she was a little too much for everyone. 

But she wasn’t too much for Alex. 

Alex didn’t look at her like she was nothing, didn’t avert her eyes. In fact, Alex looked at her like she was everything. She looked angry right now, but not at Cass. Never at Cass. Instead, she was angry for Cass. She was furious on the oread’s behalf, and how many people had ever been that? How many people would have stood up for her against a man with a knife and a terrible certainty that what he was doing was right? 

It didn’t remove the blade from where it rested against her skull. It didn’t ease the grip holding her in place. But if that knife found its home in her head, if she died on the forest floor just feet away from the cave where she would have been safe, at least she’d die seen. She’d never thought she’d have that before.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked out. Not to Rhett. She wasn’t sorry to him at all. But to Alex. That she was here, that she had to see this even if Cass was grateful for it. There was more she wanted to say, too, but it seemed cruel, almost. To say the only other thing in her head and die right after would be terrible. Alex would never be the same.

But… hope sprung up in her chest as Alex’s skin began to ripple. Cass knew she’d been working with Alan, training to shift without the moon, but she hadn’t known how far she’d come with it. She never would have blamed Alex if the shift hadn’t come, of course, never would have held it against her. But her bones were cracking and her body was changing and maybe things would be all right after all.

Or maybe they wouldn’t.

One hand moved under her chin, holding her in place. Cass struggled anyway, letting out a scream as she kicked and swung her elbows and did anything she could to make the target harder to hit. She felt the knife pierce her head, and she closed her eyes and waited for it to go the rest of the way through, but it didn’t. Alex was there. 

There was only a heartbeat of relief before the pain hit. For a moment, she hadn’t even realized that the knife landed someplace else. She was so happy to be alive that it took her a moment to process the knife in her shoulder, buried to the hilt. The moment her mind caught up, the pain hit. With the hands holding her in place gone, there was nothing holding her upright, either, and Cass staggered forward, falling down to her knees. 

The knife had been yanked messily from her shoulder when Rhett fell backwards, leaving nothing to staunch the bleeding. The blood had followed the knife like a fountain when it was removed, and was gushing pretty heavily now. Cass moved to put a hand on top of it, because wasn’t that what they always did in the movies? But her arm hurt from where it had been wrenched, and any pressure applied made it so much worse. The blood seeped through her rocky fingers, staining stone. 

She felt cold. And that was funny, wasn’t it? She didn’t think she’d ever been cold before. How could she? There was magma running through her veins, lava pumping through her. Volcanoes didn’t get cold, and neither did Cass. So why was she shivering now?

“Alex,” she gasped out, looking for the wolf. There was blood on the ground. Not all of it was hers. Fear gripped her by the throat. “Alex. I — Alex, are you hurt?”

—

The furious gaze of icy blue eyes never left the warden. They couldn't—- not while Cass was so firmly in his grip. Alex felt a low growl rumble through her. He regarded Cass like she was nothing and it all clicked into place. Nothing was ever black and white and men like Rhett, like her father, were too stubborn to see anything else. It was its own form of evil and she knew he wouldn't let Cass go. As the warden's arm began to move, the werewolf sprung forward claws first toward him. 

Alex dug her claws firmly into the side of his head and dragged down his face, clinging onto him as her momentum sent them tumbling to the ground. Too much of the blood she smelled in the air wasn't his and it sent a guttural snarl through the wolf as jowls hung over the warden's face. Some part of her wanted to let go of control and tear into his throat. It'd be so easy even as Rhett wrestled beneath her. Both the wolf and person in her understood one thing, this man threatened the pack— her family. 

The warden wrestled beneath her and Alex rustled atop of him keeping sharp claws at the ready. Several blows were delivered to her sides before the warden managed a shove that sent her stumbling back with her claws dragging as he pushed her away from his head, leaving shallow claw marks down his chest. It ignited more of a fighting instinct in her, more feral than anything trained, and the pulsing in his throat was something of a temptation. The coppery scent of his blood already coated the air and he was beginning to look like more of a meal. And some instinct in her knew that he deserved it. 

But then the sound of her name came out as a gasp and Alex was pulled back to what was important. Cass. The werewolf bellowed and put all her strength into a swipe at the warden's upper leg. More blood splattered onto the werewolf's coat and she knew the warden wouldn't be moving for a while. Some bitter part of her hoped he bled out there. 

The werewolf dashed towards Cass and stood in front of her protectively. Alex grabbed the fallen iron knife with her still clawed hand and waited a beat, panting heavily as she watched the warden to make sure they were safe to run. 

As her breathing slowed, Alex relaxed back into feeling like herself. She needed to help Cass now, she was bleeding and it was pooling all around her. The sight made her sick but her bones shifted back into place and her form turned back into something more human. The air was chilly against her skin, but she still felt like she was on fire. 

“Cass,” she murmured, “I'm fine— I'm...“ Alex looked over Cass and there was so much blood. Fuck. She needed to get help. “He hurt you,” she said solemnly, grabbing for the bag that had fallen to the ground and throwing on an oversized t-shirt. They needed to get far away from Rhett.

She knelt down beside Cass eyes still watching the fallen warden. Alex extended her arm and braced herself to take on Cass's weight. ”Come on,“ she said, “We have to get out of here— I'll take care of you, ok? You're going to be ok.“ She had to be ok. 

—

For the briefest of moments, there was a flash of fear in the warden’s eyes. For a moment, terror gripped him, plunging him into an proverbial ice bath and delivering a shock to his system that woke parts of him that’d been dormant for decades. He didn’t beg, though, no—he only grit his teeth, set his jaw, and closed those useless eyes as he hiked his legs up to his chest and delivered a two-footed kick that knocked the werewolf away from him. The claws that raked across his chest and stomach pulled a groan from him, but he quickly tensed again as he waited for the beast to return. He couldn’t muster the strength to rise from the forest floor, and just as quickly as that instinctual drive to stay alive had descended upon him, it fled and left him empty once more. He coughed, blood staining the backs of his teeth, and then he felt the thing tearing into his leg. It ripped through denim, muscle, and bone with ease, and the pain was blinding. Truly blinding. What little sight remained in his right eye flashed with white and all he could do was inhale sharply, feeling that he might die. Was this it? At the mercy of a werewolf? Motherfucker. 

But then the monster was gone, retreating to aid the fae he’d stabbed, and Rhett let out a low, miserable moan. He tried to pick himself up, but his leg was ripped apart and the wounds on his face were bleeding into his eyes and everything hurt. All he could do was lay there, listening to them speak, promising to take care of one another. It made him sick to his stomach, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was down, and unless someone came to get him like the werewolf was there to aid the fae, he’d probably bleed out. 

He waited until their uneven footsteps retreated before he dared move again, lifting his ass off the dirt with a pained grunt and digging his phone out of his back pocket. Holding the device between his teeth, the warden summoned the last of his strength to drag himself over to the nearest tree and prop his back against it, spitting out the phone and retching from the pain along the way. Once he was as settled as he was going to get, he reached for the phone and unlocked it, staring at the screen with exceptionally blurry, reddened vision. His thoughts were disjointed and growing more so by the minute—the clock was ticking, he knew. He thought about contacting Emilio, but… no.

His thumb found Parker’s name instead, and he pressed the call button. There was only a brief wait before the other warden picked up, and Rhett wasted no time with pleasantries. 

“Werewolf got me. Probably got ‘bout twenty minutes afore I bleed out. Bring supplies. It’s safe now. Send you the coordinates in a sec. Somewhere near the edge of the Flat.” He didn’t even wait for the other man to respond before hanging up, looking up his longitude and latitude and sending the number his friend’s way. If he made it out of this alive, he was definitely going to have to spring for that eyepatch. He was pretty sure lefty was toast based on feeling alone, but didn’t have the stomach to reach up and touch it. The phone slipped from his hand then, head leaning back against the trunk of the skinny tree, eyes closing again as he focused on keeping his heart rate down. 

Hellfire, that hadn’t gone to plan.

—

Black spots danced around the edge of her vision, and wasn’t it strange how everything hurt when she’d only been stabbed in one place? There was just that — bleeding more than she’d thought it would — and the broken arm, but wasn’t it silly for those two things to knock her down this hard? She thought of the comics she’d read, the movies she’d seen. In media, this kind of thing would have never been enough to keep someone down. People on TV got stabbed and finished the fight before they realized it had happened at all. People in comics lost limbs and stayed on their feet. It was misleading, she thought; none of it ever told you how much things hurt.

Alex’s face was blurry in front of her, those black spots trying as hard as they could to blot it out entirely. Cass squinted around them, letting out a small sigh when she came into focus. Alex didn’t look hurt. There was blood on her, but Cass couldn’t trace it back to any injuries. More likely, the blood wasn’t hers. She wondered how much of it was Rhett and how much of it had come from her. If she weren’t so out of it, she might have asked, might have said something about how it was almost romantic to see so much of her on her girlfriend’s skin. “You’re so beautiful,” she said instead, the words a quiet breath of air.

“I’m okay,” she murmured softly, reaching up to twist a strand of Alex’s hair around her finger absently. It hurt, but it was worth it, anyway. Alex’s hair was always so pretty, and Cass hadn’t touched it enough. She should have always had it twisted around her finger like this, should have kept it there. “I’m just kind of tired.” She knew you weren’t really supposed to sleep at a time like this, because that was always a dramatic point in every show, too. Someone was bleeding, someone closed their eyes. The episode faded to black, the words to be continued flashed across the screen. The audience waited weeks or months to find out if those eyes would open again, or the show was canceled and they never found out at all. Either way, it was simpler to experience it from your sofa than it was to live it. When this screen faded to black, Cass thought, she might never even see the words.

Alex reached down and helped her up, and it hurt, but Alex wanted her to walk so she walked. Or… maybe walked was a generous term. She was dragged, she was half-carried, she was draped over Alex and guilty for making her girlfriend do the majority of the work here when she’d done so much already. She stared at her feet, tried to get them to move. One foot in front of the other. One foot. The other. God, had her feet always been so heavy? Had it always been so cold here?

She faltered, tripped, would have fallen long ago if not for Alex holding her up. The black spots were bigger now, the world felt darker than it ought to. One foot stopped in front of the other, and she couldn’t lift it again. Her knees buckled. 

The screen faded to black, and she was right — she couldn’t read the words there.

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: February 24, 2024, (the evening of this) LOCATION: Inge's House PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Metzli (@muertarte) Inge (@nightmaretist), and Cass (@magmahearts) SUMMARY: After learning about what had happened to Anita and that she had been brought to Inge's house to warm up with Cass, Metzli comes over to make sure Anita is okay. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

It wasn’t right. Anita had been hurt, and any reasonable individual would’ve been motivated by panic and stress, guided toward their loved one with such a force that everything stormed out of their path. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for Metzli, who had to usually rely on logic above all else to mimic love. They didn’t know how to feel or what to do or how to process, but they had a location and a place to be, so they drove. And somehow, they’d done so calmly, even if they were going twenty over the speed limit. 

By the time Metzli arrived, there was not much they could recall from between their walk from the car and their knock at the door. Nothing else mattered except getting to Anita. They just wished they could have made the moment sweeter with a warm drink or a filling pastry, but that was something they could do another time. Their focus diverted completely to their sister. 

“Where was she found?” They rushed inside with a curt nod at whatever invitation they were given, not paying much mind to Inge so they could lay their eyes on proof that Anita was alive. It wasn’t as if she or Inge had any reason to lie. As far as Metzli was concerned, they both had their trust, and had given no grounds for them to not take her at her word. But between someone who thought themself a sibling, and the person they saw as their family, nothing else mattered more than reaching them. 

With utmost care, Metzli opened the door and reached Anita in a blink, hovering a hand over her hair. She looked tired and worse for wear, but she was warm and breathing, resting soundly in clothing that looked much too big now. Metzli thought perhaps their mind was playing tricks on them, which would be no surprise. Panic had a way of altering a mind.

Metzli retracted their hand and backed away slowly. “I am here.” They kept their voice quiet, waiting for Anita’s approval to get closer. Their touch would do her no good, considering their lack of body heat, but they still held onto hope that they could offer some sort of physical affection she usually claimed she didn’t need. It wasn’t uncommon for Metzli to find her cuddling up with Fluffy or leaning into their touch. As much as Metzli wanted to, they never picked on her for it, and they especially wouldn’t right then. Not in front of Cass or Inge. 

It was important that Metzli find out what was going on as soon as possible. Cass could only imagine the worry they must have felt when Anita didn’t come home. Were they looking for her? Were they scouring the woods, were they searching? She couldn’t imagine they’d be doing anything else, not if they had any inkling that something was wrong. Metzli was proactive, was dedicated, was loyal. And they loved Anita, Cass had seen it. If they knew Anita was hurt, they’d be worried. So they needed to find out right away.

She figured it would be better for Anita to text them, maintained her position practically curled around the lamia as she did so. She kept up that warm-but-not-too-hot temperature, gradually warming herself a little more to make sure Anita got the heat she needed without being too hot. She tried making awkward small talk with Inge at first, but she got the feeling neither of them really wanted that, so she gave it up after a few minutes. 

And, when Metzli finally arrived and entered the room, she let the relief wash over her all at once. 

She wondered, somewhat absently, if Metzli would display the same desperation if it were her in Anita’s position. She felt guilty for wondering it — Anita was hurt, and this should be about her — but her mind went there all the same. Cass was so used to being an afterthought and, in this moment, Anita was clearly anything but. She thought back to Alex, after she was hurt, to the way she would have done anything to get her out of Rhett’s cruel grasp. Hadn’t it been intoxicating, being the center of someone’s world? Even if only for a moment, even when it was over now? Hadn’t it felt good?

“She’s getting warmer,” she spoke up almost tentatively, like she was no longer sure of her place in this room. Neither Inge nor Metzli had the body heat to warm Anita, so Cass was necessary. She liked being necessary. It meant no one could make her go. “I think it’ll be a while longer before she’s… back to full strength.”

—

They had been at Inge’s place for a little while before Anita had the strength to even send Metzli a message about what had happened. And of course since she didn’t even have her own phone with her she had to rely on using someone else’s to even send the message. It felt like this was becoming a habit, needing help from others, and it made her feel uneasy. As much as she wanted to tell everyone to leave, not because she didn’t want them there but because she felt that her debt to them was growing with each passing second. Debt she didn’t know how to repay. 

Just before Metzli arrived, Anita had finally felt warm enough to shift back. While most things in life were aided by being an incredibly large rattlesnake, trying to get warm was certainly not on that list. “I’m gonna get smaller,” she said to Cass so as not to startle the woman wielding that much heat near her skin, “It’ll make it quicker. Warmer blood and whatever.” It took more effort than she was used to but the scales that spread across her body were slowly replaced with soft pink flesh, allowing her to curl up into herself and get herself under the aluminum blanket that the tall stranger had given her. 

When she heard Metzli’s voice there was a simultaneous relief and guilt that panged through Anita. She didn’t want to worry anyone… she didn’t mean to worry anyone. There had been nights, plenty of nights, that she didn’t make it home. She usually let them know that was going to be the case though, when she remembered to. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” she offered up. Normally the lamia adored being the center of attention - she thrived on it - but this type of attention, this type of care, felt so foreign to her. She didn’t know how to handle it all. 

“I just need to get warm. I already healed the wound.” Nodding towards Cass, Anita agreed, “Will be a while, for sure.” Even if her body got warmed up Anita wondered how long the exhaustion she was feeling would last. “I’ve never… I don’t know anyone who’s ever… guess this is why my father wanted me to stay in the desert.” 

_ 

She couldn’t recall the last time she’d turned on the heating in her cold apartment, but she had it blasting now. Inge could host, at the very least — it was one of the skills she’d taken with her from her former life. She could fret a little, offer whatever comforts Anita needed while waiting for her to warm up again. In a way, it was good to be on the other side of this: to help rather than to need to be helped. 

And though her body ached from all the walking, she got up and moved towards the door all the same when the doorbell rang. Her eyes locked with Metzli, she offered the, “Come in,” required for a vampire and let them burst in. She followed, pushing through as she tried to keep up their pace. “In the Pines. I was astral hopping and I saw her and got help.” This was the second time in a long time where Inge was confronted with the fact that she was limited, that in some cases she was powerless. She had none of the superior healing her vampire brethren had, nor the strength. Not even the bodily warmth to assist Anita. And even though she’d manage to help Anita, she despised the feeling.

She followed Metzli, no longer bothering to keep up with their vampiric speed and leaned on a chair in the living room. What a strange combination of people, two of whom she’d only met rather recently and in very different settings. Inge didn’t question it. Life was spontaneous. And pain connected, that too she knew. 

A small smile for Cass. Ariadne’s friend, she assumed. The one she’d asked her not to give nightmares. “Good.” She moved around the chair, sat on its edge, close to the gathering of people in her living room. So filled with life. She found it confusing. “You can stay as long as you need to, you know that.” Not often did she open her doors like that for people, and it wasn’t like Anita and her were as tightly entwined as she perhaps was with Metzli or even Cass — but still. Inge wasn’t going to kick her friend out. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “It’s … you’re here now, hm? Just focus on getting warmer.” 

“Ay, mi hermosa.” Metzli leaned forward and planted an affectionate kiss to Cass’s head, fully trusting that if she was in contact with Anita, then it was safe to do so. Besides, they couldn’t help themself when the person they saw like kin was making them proud. She truly was a hero, and Metzli wholeheartedly believed that’s what she was meant to be. They smiled, “Thank you for helping her.” They didn’t care if Cass would bind them, and some part of them knew she wouldn’t. Regardless, it felt important to express their gratitude, and they turned to regard Inge, who they could see through the doorway to the living room. “And thank you as well, Inge. I…” Tears brimmed their eyes, a few daring to streak down their cheeks as they returned to Anita’s side and sat.

Metzli sniffled and cleared their throat immediately, trying not to feel too embarrassed. Anita likely didn’t have the energy to tease them, but they hoped she might. Anything to further cement that she was still there, and what Metzli was seeing wasn’t just a figment. It was asinine, really. They knew that. So, carefully, they reached forward, placing a gentle hand on Anita’s head for a few moments. They smiled warmly and retracted it before they could undo any of Cass’s hard work. Anita was real. Anita was real and even if Metzli had failed in finding her, she was alive and able to recover. 

“I looked for you. Was very scared you were hurt and I am very sorry I could not find you.” The possibility (and really, the inevitability) of Anita dying became far too real, and it choked them. It formed  a ball of some sort and it lodged itself in Metzli’s throat. Their leg began to bounce as discomfort overtook them, but they took a grounding breath to keep their emotions at bay as best they could. Some emotion was okay, but they didn’t want to overwhelm Anita or overtake the attention she needed. Instead, they breathed once more, offering Anita their hand, palm facing up. 

“I will be here until you can come home then. Whatever you need, hermana. Like Inge say, focus on getting warmer. We will help.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with the magma flowing through her veins filled her chest as Metzli addressed her, and she offered them the smallest of smiles. When they’d first found Anita in the woods, trailing behind Otis and Inge like a lost dog, there had been so much desperation. She’d been so afraid, so uneasy. If anything happened to Anita, she’d thought, and Cass didn’t prevent it from doing so, she was sure Metzli wouldn’t forgive her for it. She was good so long as she was useful, and she’d been useful tonight. She’d used the destructive force of her volcanic nature for something decent, for warmth instead of ruination. 

Metzli thanked her, and Cass disregarded it with a shrug. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy I could help.” She looked down at Anita with a small smile. “Everybody deserves somebody to help them, right?” It was something Cass desperately wanted, needed to be true. If Anita deserved salvation, if everyone did, didn’t she get to be included in that, too? 

She flashed Inge a grateful smile as the mare said they could all stay as long as they needed to. It was funny — she hadn’t liked Inge much at the beginning of all this, but she was grateful for her now. Offering her home not just to Anita, but also to Cass, who she probably still hated, was a pretty heroic thing to do. And Cass would know; she was a superhero.

“So, um…” She shifted her weight a little, repositioning Anita slightly so that they both could be a little more comfortable. “Anybody have any Uno cards?”

—

As much as Anita adored being the center of attention in normal circumstances, these were not normal circumstances. This collection of people surrounding her, from different aspects of her life, all coming together to help her out was not a dynamic she knew how to navigate. But they didn’t seem upset or annoyed, at least not visibly, at needing to tend to the weakened lamia. That felt surprising to her, mostly. Metzli’s reaction, their support, was expected. But the other two, that felt surprising. Not because of who they are or because of anything they had done but simply because having people around to support her was such a foreign feeling at this stage in her life. 

The idea of her absence causing Metzli to go out and search for her, knowing that she caused them any amount of fear, only added to the guilt that was cursing her. How many nights had she not come home in the past without letting them know? Did it always spark such a reaction? That wasn’t a question she really wanted an answer to. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have … been out there like that.” She reached out and placed her hand in theirs, keeping it there despite the cold. 

She turned her attention towards Cass, who was doing the work of a dozen heat lamps all by herself. “Is this tiring for you?” For all that Anita knew, whatever Cass was, and whatever powers she had, were foreign to her. “Don’t think I’ve played Uno since… college, maybe?” She didn’t wanna make presumptions but it seemed unlikely that Inge had a deck of Uno cards lying around. But Cass was onto something. If they had something to do to pass the time, maybe Anita would feel less guilt, or at least be distracted enough to not think about it for a short while. “Wouldn’t be opposed to playing a game or something, though.”  

__ 

The scene was a strange one. Inge had people over at her house aplenty, but it was never this kind of combination. Anita in her living room made sense, had occurred before, but Metzli she only knew professionally and then there was Cass, the thief who’d melted her things. Put together the fact that someone was being offered aid and she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d encounter this kind of thing again soon. She gave Metzli a serious look, nodded. “Of course.” It wasn’t like she’d done it for Metzli, but still. She didn’t mind a little appreciation.

Inge remained leaning on the chair until Cass said something about Uno. Now the scene was really becoming something completely foreign. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. She raised up, jaws tight at the movement. “I can find us something. I’ve got a deck of cards, so we can just play crazy eights.” She could host. Though the days of serving guests pickled eggs and vruchtenbowl were over, she hadn’t quite lost that. 

She moved away from the three others, feeling strangely out of place. She cared for Anita, certainly, and enjoyed her company deeply — but she and her had never felt this proximity she seemed to share with Cass and Metzli. No matter. It was hardly like she was jealous. Inge opened one of the many cabinets in the living room, most of them filled with various items. Old games from back at home, books and collections, dried flowers and trinkets she intended to do something with, one day. A deck of cards was produced and she returned, pulling an ottoman close to the small gathering. “If anyone wants something to drink, you can help yourself. There’s wine and other things in the kitchen.” No blood, that she only got when she had planned vampire visits. “But for now, I’ve got the deck. Shall I deal?”

Metzli shook their head at Anita and shushed her. “You are strong and your confidence is big. Maybe you make mistake, but you are alive. That is what matters.” They paused for a moment, offering Anita an intimate gesture by pressing their lips to the back of her hand. For someone not normally too keen on touch, it meant a great deal. It was something that required trust and comfort that they had only just begun to understand. “You matter to me. Worry will happen and that is okay. Just shut up and accept.”

There were various options that everyone presented for entertainment, nourishment, and comfort. Uno sounded interesting enough. If there were only a single item in a game, Metzli figured it couldn’t possibly be overstimulating or incredibly complex. It sounded quiet. Perfect, even. That was probably why Cass suggested it, and they offered a small and gentle smile to her as they gave Anita’s hand one final squeeze. She didn’t need her temperature lowered again. 

“Let us play this Uno game and I can pay for pizza if someone will like to order.” They turned their head just in time to watch Inge’s hair bounce around the corner as she mentioned a much more chaotic game. Crazy eights? That is bigger than one. Not by much, but enough. And the numbers were crazy? Metzli couldn’t make sense of it, but before they knew it, Inge provided the group with a deck of cards. They stared at it as if it were as atypical as themself, their back stiffening as they shook their head and responded. “I will watch. I do not want to gamble in your deal.”

Anita asked about her, about her well-being, and it was enough to make Cass’s chest feel warm in the metaphorical sense as well as the physical. She offered the lamia a small smile, shaking her head. “It’s not tiring. This is just… being, for me.” Without the need to maintain her glamour, this was actually less tiring than her day-to-day, even if the glamour only took a very small amount of energy to keep up. Regardless, even if it had been exhausting, she would have done it. Anita was cold, and Cass could warm her. That was all there was to it. It was a simple thing.

She hummed, disappointed but not surprised that Inge didn’t have any Uno cards lying around. It had been something of a long shot, given Inge’s whole ‘fancy lady’ aesthetic. Fancy ladies probably didn’t play Uno, which was stupid. Uno was fun. But, regardless, Cass knew how to work with what was given to her. Metzli wasn’t interested in Crazy 8s, though Anita didn’t seem to mind the idea. Cass considered it for a moment.

“Maybe we can do a round or two of that, then Go Fish?” She looked to Metzli as she said it, brows drawing together in a pleading look. It was an expression perfected from years of making sure everyone felt included enough to stay. If there was nothing for a person to do, they were more likely to walk away. And Cass didn’t want Metzli to leave.

She didn’t want anyone to leave, but Metzli was the only one who really could right now. Anita was frozen in place (though not quite literally anymore), and this was Inge’s house. If she could keep Metzli here, they could stay as they were right now. And Cass liked how they were right now. It felt kind of perfect… or as perfect as anything could be, under the circumstances. “Maybe we could have hot chocolate, too?”

—

It would have been too overwhelming for Anita to take the time to fully process and internalize the amount of care that was being given to her. So she was glad to have a distraction in the way of a card game, no matter what game that ended up being. Something to do other than talk about the situation she got herself in. “Crazy 8’s isn’t all that crazy,” she offered to Metzli in Spanish when they seemed uninterested in playing. She wanted them to have a good time if they were going to be stuck here waiting for her to defrost, but also knew that watching the others play might as well be as enjoyable as playing for them. 

Anita was feeling well enough to move her arms a bit, being able to do the absolute bare minimum action for a game of cards. As the cards were delt she reached out to grab her hand, fully accepting that it would be near impossible to keep her cards fully concealed from Cass.  “Hot chocolate would be amazing. Especially if you’ve maybe got some tequila lying around to throw in there?” She asked, looking over at Inge. She should have asked Metzli to bring some from home. Even though she knew the science behind it was flawed, there was no denying that a bit of tequila was known to warm just about anyone up. “I think after a few rounds of the game I should be warm enough to head home. I don’t wanna put y’all out all night.” 

_ 

She looked between the strange range of people and folded down the cards so they could be shuffled and dealt at a later time, “Maybe you can explain the rules to Metzli? It is not so different from Uno.” Inge got up, sure to not touch Cass and her searing skin again. She remembered how she’d burned her once and thought it some kind of metaphor — how warmth could be healing yet also dangerous. 

“Anyway — hot chocolate I can do. With tequila. I’ll also order a pizza.” And she’d pay for it. She was a gracious host, after all. It was a fundamental skill for women of her once-caliber. It was one she didn’t mind not having unlearned — though plenty of the other submissive housewife traits had luckily left her. “What kind of toppings do you like?”

Her eyes flicked to Anita, then. “Don’t worry. Neither Metzli nor I need sleep. You are hardly putting me out. You’ve —” Slept over before, she almost added, before remembering herself. Inge smirked vaguely and then gave Cass another one over. She was okay. Even if she’d stolen her bag and burned her hand. “And if you doze off, that’s alright.” She moved to the kitchen to heat up some milk on the stove, feeling a distant sense of a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps it was as simple as contentment, but maybe something more rare — a feeling of safety and unity. 

They knew what Cass was doing when she made that face. They also knew she was scared that they’d leave, even if that was far from the truth. More than once, she had used it to get her way, ensuring abandonment of any kind wasn’t any option. It was how she operated, experiencing dismissal and loneliness far too long. If given the chance to live those moments again, Metzli surely would’ve given Cass what she wanted without any sort of plea. 

They just enjoyed her face far too much to give in immediately. They enjoyed the way she knew a certain look would sway any decision they made. As if Metzli was truly her guardian. “I am staying, mihijita. And I will beat you at this crazy game.” Gently, they reached over and patted her head, ruffling her slightly and playfully with a small but genuine smile on their face. “I will also beat Anita.” They chuckled, rising to their feet to help Inge out in the kitchen. A room they were comfortable and navigated well in. Never mind the fact that they had no need to eat actual food anymore.

“If you have chocolate that I can melt with the mix, I can help you make it very tasty.”

 “Pineapple!” Cass cut in immediately, eager to make her preferred pizza topping known. Normally, she might have let someone else respond first, might have pretended to like whatever the popular answer was, but… she felt comfortable, in this moment. She felt comfortable enough to be a little more of herself, to stop pretending even if it was only for a heartbeat. Later, the mask would slip back on as easily as breathing. She’d cut herself into smaller pieces, something easier to digest. But right here, right now… Cass felt good. And that was good. Wasn’t it?

She grinned a little as Metzli agreed to stay, feeling as though some invisible weight had been lifted. The teasing, too, felt good, felt like something she’d never thought she’d have. “There’s no way you’re beating me,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m totally gonna win. You’ll probably beat Anita, though.” She flashed Anita a grin — a quiet confirmation that she was only kidding, with a question underneath it: is this okay, are we here yet, can we do this? 

As Metzli and Inge went into the kitchen, Cass remained with Anita. This was good, she thought. However terrifyingly the night had started out, this ending was good. She wanted more nights like this. She wanted them forever. 

—

It was not very often that Anita found herself alone, physically. She usually had some body nearby to keep her company - either a meal or a tryst. Even when she spent time with people she cared about, the people in this room, it was almost always one-on-one. Genuinely, she did not know if that was an intentional doing on her part or if it was coincidental. Laying there, wrapped up in physical and emotional warmth felt so foreign to her. It made her think back to Mexico, before she left home. But even as she let her mind wander back there, as she shuffled through her cards and listened to discussions about pineapple on pizza, Anita was faced with the reality that home had never actually felt quite this warm. 

Back then she may have been constantly surrounded by a sea of family but they were all so preoccupied with themselves that moments like this - simple evenings - were scarce. Anita smiled up at Metzli when they returned with cups of cocoa and nodded at the indication from Inge that pizza was just a few minutes away. As she took that first sip of the spiked beverage, for a moment the guilt she had been feeling slipped away. For a moment she was just in a living room, playing cards with people who cared about her.

[heirceleste]

@wiccawcnder cassidy + prue

the last thing cassidy ever would’ve expected was to settle on the west coast. but there seemed to be magic everywhere here. she’d come out this way for one thing just over a year ago, had started working part time at a dance studio, and ended up fully loving it. now she spent several days a week teaching toddlers and little kids how to do ballet and contemporary dance. cass missed the snow in winter and her younger siblings, but something about the move felt right to her.

today was her day off, and the werewolf was spending it in outdoors. it wasn’t unusual for her to run into kids or parents outside of class, but literally running into a very hot single mom was. “oh shit,” she swore stumbling and skinning her knee as she felt. cursing under her breath, cassidy stood up and turned to face prue with an apologetic smile on her face.

“oh my god i am so sorry ms halliwell,” she apologized quickly, doing her best to save face despite the sweat clinging to her skin and the blood on her knee. “promise i normally look where im going when im out for a run.”

[bcckmcskcd]

closed starter for @houseoracastle (cass)

Faris felt sort of listless since his sister's death, and the fact that they couldn't really have a proper burial for her was weighing heavily on him.

"Hey Cass." He was overly familiar with all residence of Huntsville at this point, a bond forged between all of them that was difficult to describe or replicate. "Did the funeral home get hit too hard by the weird water?"

[faoighiche]

A Father's LEGacy | Cass & Burrow

PARTNER : @magmahearts TIMING : Current. LOCATION : The Leg. SUMMARY : While Cass and Burrow investigate the leg, Burrow investigates Cass herself. WARNINGS : Under skin.

There was a giant leg sticking out of the ground. Cass wasn’t really sure what to make of that. She’d asked her father, but even he had seemed caught off guard, though he didn’t share Cass’s curiosity. When you’ve been around as long as I have, Cassidy, some things take precedence. You’ll realize that someday. And so, she’d tried to mask her excitement. To make it smaller, to make herself smaller so that she might better fit the image Makaio might want of his daughter. 

Still, she wanted to see the leg. She knew he could tell, and she let herself think he was amused by it as she ducked out of the cave one morning. At the very least, she thought he’d probably approve of her choice of company today. From their conversations thus far, Cass got the feeling that her father, like most fae, preferred the company of other fae to anyone else when he wanted company at all. Burrow, she figured, would get along well with him. Burrow was a good nymph, one who did the things she was supposed to do. Eventually, Cass would introduce Burrow to Makaio, and he would approve.

But for now, she was going to touch the leg.

She met up with Burrow in their pre-arranged meeting spot, a precaution Cass had only begun to take since her father’s arrival at the cave. Flashing the other nymph a smile as she got close, she waved. “What do you think about the leg?” She asked in way of greeting. “Do you feel anything from it? Do your parasites? Have the fed on it at all?” Unlike the Abnormality, this felt closer to Burrow’s domain than her own.

Burrow waved to the rocks — jutting structures of the abnormality — and her reflections on them waved back. They cradled the recent oddity: the leg. The leg like a barren tree, whose branches were tipped with claws. Was this another part of the abnormality, piercing through the shell below? Was this one the abnormality wanted to claim, its pieces circling it like teeth? Questions she could not answer because of the humans. They put up fences and signs and demands for payment. She observed the humans — watching their patterns and finding where their numbers were always slim. That is when she returned, chasing the humans who remained with the buzzing of her wasps and the bite of her phantom ticks. Finally, alone. Free to inspect the leg… and Cass.

Burrow knew the stranger lurking in the cave was not a passing visitor. They were still there when she sent her flies in her stead. The flies did not understand language but they did know tone. Cass and the stranger had spoken with gentle words. Their faces had been serene. They were familiar with each other, of soul and body. The stranger was chiseled in Cass’ image, seeping with the same molten blood. Observations implied they were kin, yet why was Cass not rejoicing? It was no secret that Cass yearned for family, so why was this stranger a secret? There must be something she was missing. 

A thing Burrow would discover, in time, as she waved Cass closer. “I think the leg is… interesting. I do not feel anything from the leg. My kin have not claimed it.” So large, so inviting, so befitting of homing thousands of her precious ones. Yet it was absent of their pleasant touch. She would touch it for them — determine if it was worthy of their taking. She pried her fingers under the scales, but they resisted her intrusion. Her fingers split into separations that ran down her palms. They extended and curled and lost any memory of joints and bone. They became tendrils that bore into the flesh. It tasted… wrong. A corruption that made her quiver. She leaned forward, licking at what she could of the exposed skin. It gave her a full taste of the disgusting rot. She immediately pulled away, spitting on the ground. “The leg is nasty.” As her tendrils retracted back into fingers, she looked to the bits of the abnormality surrounding them. “You can have it.” Maybe it could give this rotten thing some use.

She hadn’t told her father where she was going, which was rare now. In the beginning, when he’d first arrived, she’d filtered in and out of the cave with little more than greetings and fond words of departure, but lately she’d felt the need to update him in on her comings and goings. She wasn’t sure why, didn’t understand the desire to make sure he always knew where she was. Maybe it had been a few comments he’d made here and there, or maybe she just thought it was what you were supposed to do with your parent. Regardless, she felt a little guilty about the way she’d sauntered out of the cave without an explanation today. Would he be more disappointed in her for that than he would have been if she’d told him where she was headed? He’d like Burrow if he met her, Cass was sure of it. When he was ready to meet people, she thought, Burrow would be the first one she’d introduce him to. They’d get along. She knew they would.

But for now, there was a leg to touch. Cass was more excited about it than she’d been about anything in a while now, especially out in the open where she didn’t feel the need to stifle her enthusiasm. She wanted to see what the big deal was, wanted to figure out how it worked, wanted to know what Burrow knew about it the same way Burrow had wanted to know what she knew about the Abnormality. She liked listening to what Burrow had to say. It was always interesting, even if it sometimes didn’t make sense.

And so, the excitement in her chest bubbled and built as she approached her friend, moving in closer when Burrow ushered for her to do so. She watched Burrow inspect the leg, tried not to make a face as she licked at it. This was part of Burrow’s process, she thought. Still, Cass wasn’t surprised when Burrow proclaimed the leg to be nasty, wrinkling her nose as she leaned in to press her palm against it. “I don’t think I can do anything with it, either,” she replied. It wasn’t stone; that much was certain. “So it won’t help your parasites? Won’t feed them?”

Cass appeared as her usual self: bubbly and bright and blazing. As warm and ignited as the magma hidden below her skin. The stranger, whoever they may be, had no effect on that flame. The appearance of it, at least. Just as the skin hid molten rock, Burrow wondered if that smile hid something else. She knew how easily all things were concealed. Even joys; even troubles. As she looked to the surrounding bits of the abnormality, her swarm of reflections were also familiar. Her dark eyes stared back, steady and without strain. Absent of the failure she was becoming: a parasite who took too much. Death rarely served her, and the death of the salted one was no different. It’s only purpose was to show she was not yet ready to give her parasites their home. She was not the guardian they deserved. 

Even as Burrow remembered her mistakes, remembered how she faltered at protecting her kin, her reflections did not betray her. She continued to stare, strainless. Soon, her insides would match, when those feelings drifted back into nothing. Until that peace, she focused on her kin dwelling inside her. What wisdom did they offer? There was a unanimous chorus of hatred and disgust. Bad leg, rotten leg, nasty, nasty, nasty. Such wise words. “No. The leg is… rotten. The leg is disgusting.” She spit away more of its remnants in her mouth. A bath was due in her near future. “My kin would die if they ate the leg.” The leg was useless to them, but it did not mean it was without use. Her eyes flickered back to the rocks, to her reflections, before returning to Cass. “Does the abnormality want the leg?” 

Burrow hated the leg, so Cass decided she hated it, too. It was a silly thing, a crutch she no longer needed to lean on. Her father had been trying to remind her of it, when it came to her friends. If they care for you, you won’t need to pretend. You can be who you are, you can be my daughter. If they love you, they won’t leave. And if they leave, they do not love you. It was good advice, but privately, she wondered why he was hiding if he believed it. Privately, she wondered if he feared her friends wouldn’t accept him, if he was just as insecure as she was. If he voiced it, she would have reassured him just as he reassured her. If they like me, they’ll like you, too, she’d tell him. We’re the same, aren’t we? Anyone who loves me should love you, and anyone who hates you must hate me, too. She would have told him this if he’d asked, but he didn’t and so she thought it silently instead. She reminded herself of it, became convinced of its accuracy. If her friends loved her, they should love the man who made her, too. And if they didn’t…

Family was what was important, wasn’t it? And she’d found hers now. Her father wouldn’t leave her, so how could Cass ever leave him? She’d never been the one to walk away before; she certainly wasn’t going to start now.

“Then they shouldn’t eat it,” she replied firmly, because she didn’t want Burrow’s parasites to die. Burrow would be sad, wouldn’t she? If that happened, Burrow would be sad, and Cass didn’t want that. She wanted Burrow to be happy and safe and okay and here. And if the last one felt the most important, she wouldn’t confess to it. It seemed a heavy thing to say. “I don’t know if the Abnormality wants the leg or not. I think… the Abnormality usually wants everything. So maybe it does. Or maybe it thinks the leg is nasty, too.”

Burrow nodded in agreement. An acceptance that brought a frown. “It is unfortunate they should not eat it. The leg could be the mighty host.” Instead, the thing was an apartment full of black mold. All those empty and waiting rooms were stacked coffins in disguise. It was cruel to tempt them all with that buffet of flesh and tissue. So many spoils for so many of her kin — so many that they could never take too much. Which was not a concern, for her kin knew better than to do such a thing. “Perhaps it is for the best. The leg attracts… too many of the humans.” The sight of the humans was a death sentence. They always boasted about helping those poor and sick hosts. What about them? What about her lovely kin? The humans would probably choose this rotten thing over her beautiful worms. No one ever chose her beautiful worms. 

“I hope the abnormality does not think the leg is nasty. I hope the abnormality will make the leg useful.” Burrow did not want nature to reclaim it. That rot would return to the cycle, seeping into the soil to sprout more putrid hosts. More cruel things to tempt her parasites. At least when the abnormality stripped the lands into that hungry emptiness, too hungry for her parasites to survive, it was for a purpose. A purpose she did not know, but she hoped to find out. 

A discovery that rested in the future. The present offered Burrow a more reasonable discovery: who was in Cass’ cave? A question she wanted to ask outright, but she had learned that secrets were best claimed by delicacy or force. She had no desire to ever harm Cass. So, she would start with a prick. “How is your cave?” 

“It seems like a waste,” Cass agreed. It was sad, in a way. There was this thing here, and it was huge. It could feed so many of Burrow’s parasites, could sustain them for so long, but it was inedible. It couldn’t be claimed by her, and Cass couldn’t think of any other fae that could make use of it, either. So, what was it here for? For some humans to set up camp in front of it, charge money to other humans just to touch it? That wasn’t what nature was for. Her father, she knew, would find this distasteful. And so Cass, in an effort to be someone he would approve of, found it distasteful, too. It seemed Burrow agreed, and she was glad for that. It meant Makaio would like her, when it was time to introduce them. “Humans don’t know how to leave things alone sometimes,” she added, wrinkling her nose a little. It wasn’t a stance she used to have, but she was finding she believed in it more and more now.

But maybe there was still some use for the leg. If the Abnormality could claim it the way Burrow’s parasites couldn’t, if it could absorb it and make something of it, wouldn’t that be good? Wouldn’t it be better, at least, than humans using it as a tourist trap? “Maybe it’ll be good for the Abnormality.” Wasn’t that something she wanted? For the Abnormality to have something good?

At Burrow’s question, Cass found herself smiling a little. It was a genuine expression, a happy one. “Great,” she replied, the word just as honest as the smile. She was so happy with her dad in her cave; happier than she’d been in such a long time, happier than she’d thought she knew how to be at all. “It’s been really good lately.”

If only the humans were alone in their harm against Burrow. “The fae also do not know when to leave things alone.” That slap felt crueler, for the fae were things of nature. They followed its call, yet denied her place amongst its cycle. They thought they could tear her out like a weed, but weeds always came back — larger and hungrier. A weed that would strangle them all. No one cares or likes my parasites, that bitter thought returned to her. It had clung to her the day she was born. But as she glanced at her companion beside her, she felt the words shift. “Not many care or like my parasites.” A grievance she never bothered to bring to the fae. What was the point in complaining to the knife? It would not stop it from twisting inside her. But Cass also knew that knife. The two bore twin scars like birthmarks from its cut. They were cousins of that pain, which is why she liked Cass’ company. Shared pain was easier to bear.

The abnormality, too, was a cousin. A fellow taker. A fellow thing feared and misunderstood. Even its name showed that nature: abnormality. Burrow nodded in agreement. She also wanted the abnormality to have something good, even if she did not agree with its tastes. The rot still stung her tongue.

The stranger did not seem to sting. Their presence had not tainted the sanctuary of the cave. Perhaps they even enhanced the experience. So, why were they absent from Cass’ lips? People always liked to babble about good things; sometimes Burrow could not get them to stop. What was she missing? She must prick further — pry underneath and seek her entry. If only the act was as easy as the metaphor. Her tendrils were made to take the spoils of blood and chyme, not of knowledge. Her tongue hesitated as she selected her words. “Are the things that are inside your cave also ‘good’?”

Cass knew, better than most, how true Burrow’s words were. She’d been cast out by fae — the same fae who had cast her father out a generation before her. The sting of it hurt worse than the sting of the humans who were afraid of her, because weren’t fae supposed to get it? Cass met other nymphs who loved people just because they were fae, nymphs like Teagan who called her cousin and were overjoyed at the sight of her, at the feeling of butterflies in the stomach that came with seeing someone like you. That hadn’t been Cass’s experience for the longest time. And it hadn’t been Burrow’s, either. Selfishly, she found some comfort in that. She wasn’t the only one who’d been cast out — Burrow had, too. So had Makaio. And if she loved the both of them, didn’t she have to admit that this meant the person being cast out wasn’t the problem? If Burrow and Makaio were good, didn’t that make Cass good, too? 

“I like your parasites,” she said, and she meant it. “I care about them.” She cared about them because Burrow did, because when something was important to someone you loved, you made it important to yourself, too. Cass would love what Burrow loved. Cass would love what Makaio loved. And, in return, both of them would love Cass. Wasn’t that the only thing she’d ever really wanted? Wasn’t this town good for giving it to her? 

Burrow’s question was a little confusing. Cass wasn’t sure she understood the phrasing of it. She’d grown used to Burrow’s careful way of talking, the way she chose her words. There was always some comfort in it, in a way, because it was so entirely Burrow. The question was confusing, but Cass untangled the words in her mind with a concentrated furrow to her brow before nodding. “Yes,” she said. “Things that are inside my cave are also good. There is nothing bad inside my cave. There were before, when the crystals and goo were all over, but not now. Everything that’s inside my cave now is there because I want it there, and it’s good.”

It was still so strange to hear that. That a fae of all things cared about her kin. As the years threw more bile upon her from what were supposed to be her family, Burrow yearned for apathy. At least then, the weight of the pile would not grow. She never expected a fae to want to remove that weight. She stared at Cass, a smile forming hesitantly. A smile that never truly formed, because the weight was still there. It would always be there. Why did it have to be there? Cass made it look so easy. She said the words so effortlessly: I care about them. She had yet to know Burrow for a full year, yet cared more than those who had been there since her birth. Why did it have to be there? Even in such a happy moment, the bile ruined it. The fae, as always, ruined it. They had left their stain on her — one she did not know how to remove. Her smile twitched, unsure of what to do. She looked back to the leg.

The stranger possessed none of that complexity. They were not tainted. They were good, that was no longer a question. Burrow needed to meet this stranger: the reason for her friend’s smile. Such a secret should be shared, indulged, and enjoyed. Had it been kept from her because of her nature? Cass knew she took what she wished, but in this instance, her hands did not ache to claim. The stranger would not know her taking. They would not know what it meant to be chosen, completely, by her vines. They would not know how her vines were only satisfied when they took everything, even life. No. The stranger made Cass happy, so their presence was more useful in the cave. “I assume that means the fae in your cave is the good presence? I saw them, when…” I took the life of the salted one. I took more than I meant. I took more than I needed. “... I needed to see you.” 

It was selfish, but there was some part of Cass that liked the fact that Burrow, like her, had been cast out from the aos si she’d been born into. She’d never say it aloud, never voice the terrible thought, but it lurked in the back of her mind all the same. She’d never had someone who understood her experience the way Burrow did and now, with both Burrow and Makaio in her life, she had two people who got it. She never thought she’d be so lucky.

So… she didn’t panic the way she probably should have when Burrow revealed that she knew about Cass’s father in her cave. If Burrow understood her, and her father understood her, didn’t it stand to reason that the two would understand each other, too? Of all her friends, Burrow was the one Cass most believed Makaio would get along with. Burrow knowing about him was definitely a shock, but… maybe not a bad one. Cass glanced around carefully, looking at the leg for a moment. Could it hear them? She pulled Burrow a few steps away just in case. “You can’t tell anyone,” she said lowly. “But… he’s my dad. He found me a little while ago. He’s been looking for me all this time, you know? He’s a good presence. Definitely. And he — I really think he’ll like you, too. He’s just… not ready to meet anyone yet. I think he’s scared of people, a little.”

He’s my dad. Burrow had suspected. The two had been weathered by the same winds, formed by the same lava that still glowed through the cracks. It was so obvious. Yet, despite the logic and previous assurances, her chest seized at the reveal. Her mind flashed with images — faces that clung to her like a stain. Sneering, frowning, glances away, all carved into the folds of her brain. Expressions that did not match what she had seen in the cave. The stranger, the father, had looked to Cass with full attention. He had not looked away. He had not ignored. The connection to Cass frayed a bit at the edges, for they were not as similar as she had once believed. Cass’ father wanted her — Cass’ father was good. It was correct to have kept this all a secret, because she did want to take. She wanted to claim that love of a father. She wanted to know how it felt.

Burrow could bind him. She would bind him. Tie him to herself, with the same bow she was joined to Cass. Then, the two of them would be cousins again. They would share. A rare blessing from one who only took for herself, but she made exceptions for her kin. The claws of her past no longer pierced her chest. It returned to its proper time, releasing her to her usual calm. All the while, she continued to stare, strainless. “Ok. I will not tell anyone.” She only had Teagan to tell, and it would still be a time before she rejoined the nix. Her vines had tasted the sweetness of nymph’s blood — they might crave more. But the father was made of the same molten rock as his child. Burrow may try to take his heart, but never his body. He would be safe. They would both be safe. “I want to meet him.”

Something flashed across Burrow’s face, and Cass felt her heart fracture just a little. She knew that Burrow had issues with her own father; she understood that. But part of her had thought — had hoped that Burrow would be happy for her and the relationship she was building with hers. Weren’t friends supposed to be happy for you when it came to things like this? Weren’t they supposed to laugh when you laughed and cry when you cried? Cass shifted her weight, uncertain as she held her breath and waited for Burrow to speak, waited for her to prove that she was still a friend, even if the feelings were complex.

When she did, when she agreed not to tell anyone and requested to meet Makaio, it felt like the world was righted. Cass smiled, relief flooding her. It had only been a moment. It had been a moment of uncertainty, but Burrow was happy for her. Burrow was happy for her, and her other friends would be, too. They would rejoice with her. Makaio would come to dinner at Metzli’s, would watch movies with Ariadne. She could have both. She would get to keep both. This was proof of that. “Let me ask him,” she said softly. “Let me ask him, and then you can meet him. He’ll like you. I know he will.” Makaio would like Burrow and Burrow would like Makaio and Cass would have her cake and eat it, too. It would be good. Everything would be good. She knew it.

Burrow liked the way Cass smiled. She had tried to mimic it before. Her own never matched its brightness, still flickering at the edges. Still, she did try. At the sight of a new one, her lips curled like its echo. Small, faded, and distorted. “Ok. He will like me.” By the power of their words, the ones who spoke the truth, it would be true. That truth eased her. It meant the bind on him would settle easier. She preferred when the hosts did not struggle. “I think I will like him.” A statement she never thought she would utter, back when she believed Cass’ family was much like her own. The type to scorn their own blood for the crime of existing. But the stranger in the cave was nothing like the ones who had left her, writhing in the muck of humanity. They were in the muck together, shielded by their stones. They had made their own sanctuary. It seemed almost too good to be true. But Cass assured her that the stranger was good — that he would like her. So, she believed it. Everything was good.

[mothersmaeve]

closed starter for @waitingward location: the gym idr its name

The very last person Maeve ever would have expected to find a permanent part of Rapunzel’s never life was her very own daughter. It had been twenty something years since she had chosen the sundrop over her daughter and left without a single word or explanation. Twenty something years since she had watched her little girl call out for her from afar before riding away into the night, never to return. Or well, that’s probably what Cassandra thought had happened at least. Truth be told she had returned, attempting to collect the girl and bring her back to the tower - but it had been too late. She had already been brought into the arms and protection of the very man in charge of attempting to find Gothel and bring the sundrop baby back to her original family. Of course, Maeve could have found a way around it - could have figured out some sort of plan to get Cassandra back without giving her identity away or getting caught - but it was too big of a risk. Even the smallest possibility of being taken in, of losing her connection to the sundrop, was too much to chance. So she did what she’d come quite good at doing over the past two centuries, she let her daughter go. The love and care she felt in her heart for the girl was instead all placed into Rapunzel. Over the years from time to time she still had the odd passing thought of the girl, but nothing stronger than what she had for any of her other children. At this point in time Maeve was a master at loving and letting go, truly able to simply release the pain that had once come with losing so many people she held dear. It helped, of course, that she never had to see any of her children or former partners again after she left them.

Which was why this felt far harder than it should, seeing Cassandra again. She had made her peace with leaving the girl behind and had thought their paths would never cross again, yet here Cassandra was - all buddy buddy with the girl that had replaced her. Making simply ignoring her no longer an option. Maeve needed another way or connection into Rapunzel’s life. The thief she called a boyfriend was hardly going to be the answer, Gothel already well aware that the chances of getting him on her side were slim to none. So the roommate and newfound best friend was the next best move. Only, she had no idea how much Cassandra actually knew. How much had the blonde told her? Would she recognize Maeve right away as the woman who had kidnapped her friend? Would she remember her beyond even the events of the last two years? How much did she retain from the years they had spent together in their little cottage? Had she repressed or ignored it all in favor of her life and father? It was terrifying not having the answers to any of her questions, but Maeve was determined to carry on regardless. Figuring out how much the girl remembered and what she knew would be easy enough. A simple first meeting would tell her everything she needed to know.

The gym was hardly a place Maeve ever bothered with, the magic of the sundrop keeping her in her perfect shape regardless of how much or little she worked out, but after a few days of watching her daughters from afar it appeared to be the best place to approach Cassandra without risk of Rapunzel being around as well. As she made her way slowly over towards the corner of the gym that the younger girl had been working out in, Maeve put on a perfected air of confusion as she looked around, a small frown playing out on her face as if she had no clue what she was doing. “Excuse me?” she asks, turning to finally look Cassandra head on, waiting to see if she had any type of reaction. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but this is all just so confusing. I’m normally just a treadmill kind of gal, but I’ve heard this is what really burns off the fat and thought I should give it a try - but I just have no clue what I’m doing. And you looked like practically a professional doing it a minute ago. Any chance you could spare a moment to give an old lady some pointers?”