#Kaden doesn’t deserve comfort

[shywhumpauthor]

Piccrews? Maybe? Please 🥺 I’m in love with precious bean Kaden and bastard man Mathias…..

Ignore how this took me like a week I could not find the right picrew for kaden

Of course Anon! I have had this picrew of Mathias sitting in my camera roll since literally September

(Picrew link here)

Here is the bastard man himself. I played around with the idea of him being blond for a bit but this picrew didn’t have what I had in mind and everything else was too perfect to find a new one

(link)

And then here’s kaden, before and during captivity. (Before is from the night of the party, captivity is a little bit after the isolation chunk, before switching locations)

[olivinesea]

Off Souls, pt. 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

a/n: We made it! This is the first time I’ve ever tried to write anything with a storyline and I’m a little surprised it worked out tbh. If you enjoyed this at all you can thank @whump-town for patiently answering my 1000 questions. Thanks for letting me hurt you, buddies. Til next time! ✌🏼 ~4.9k

Plots and schemes.

Emily found him laying on top of his bed, staring at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head. He had showered as soon as he made it back into his dorm, turning the water as hot as it would go, attempting to burn away every part of the last few days. As he turned his face into the spray the water stung his cheek, split from his father's ring. He closed his eyes tightly and refused to cry. It was really a small price to pay to be back out in the world.

He dressed in sweats, thinking he was going to fall asleep from exhaustion, only to find himself studying the ceiling tiles. He had been trying to count the little holes and finding them frustratingly uneven. It was making him angry, an emotion he hadn’t felt since he took out all his rage in an unfair fight. During the endless thinking time of the last few days, he had concluded that the fight was, in fact, unfair. Kaden might have been a monster but he wasn’t really any better. Kaden had taken advantage of Emily because she was smaller, weaker and Hotch had done the same in turn. It was what his father did. The thought made his muscles tense and he jumped when Emily put a hand on his arm.

“Woah, sorry!” she said backing up, hands held in front of her.

He watched her from his new position, back pressed against the wall, knees pulled into his chest. She ran into the bed behind her and sat down, dropping her hands to twist nervously in her lap. His shoulders relaxed, though his face was still white.

“I knocked,” she said. “Sort of.” She picked at a thread in the fabric of the bedspread. “I definitely said your name.”

“It’s okay,” he finally found his voice. It was still rough after days of mostly silence.

She tilted her head and squinted. “What happened to your face?”

He covered the cut with his hand, as if that would somehow make the mark disappear. “I was in a fight, you may remember,” he muttered sullenly.

Emily was skeptical but she let it slide. She needed information. He was reluctant to go into detail but told her things were serious.

“But they let you out,” Emily protested.

Hotch sighed. “They’re still pressing charges. I’m just out until my hearing. Which probably won’t go well. There’s a lot of evidence against me.”

“That’s stupid.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I messed up, Em. These are the consequences. It’s no more than what I deserve.”

She decided not to argue this point again. She could only repeat herself to a brick wall so many times before she started to question her own sanity. There had to be some way out of this. She refused to believe that out of the three people involved in this situation, Hotch was the one getting in trouble. At least let it be her. She had been the one who started this unfortunate cascade of dominoes.

“Can’t your dad help? Isn’t he like some important lawyer?”

Hotch looked upset again, avoiding her eyes, but then shrugged, “Probably.”

She raised her eyebrows, wanting more details. He ignored her.

“He said it would be easy.”

Hotch looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

Emily faltered. “When I called him, he said it would be easy to get you off because the other guy sounded like a moron.”

“When you what?”

It was her turn to avoid his eyes. She thought maybe his dad would have filled Hotch in on the details of how he’d known to be there. Apparently not.

“Emily. You called my father? To tell him I was in jail? For assaulting someone?” He began to sound hysterical.

She nodded, concerned by his reaction. “I didn’t know what else to do. Are you mad?”

He covered his face with both hands. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t put that together. It would have been ridiculous to think his parents might have found out about his situation on their own. He just thought maybe the school had contacted them. No, he was not happy about being put in this position with his father but he wouldn’t let himself be mad at Emily. She didn’t know what this meant; how asking for a favor was unthinkable even before he found out his father was dying.

“Look,” he sighed, “just stay away from my dad. He’s not…he’s not a nice person.”

She frowned, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no it’s just—” he struggled to find the right words. “It’s going to be okay.”

Neither of them seemed convinced. He almost wanted to ask her to leave. There were far too many emotions tangled inside him and he worried he might say something he regretted. While he debated with himself, she cautiously moved over to sit next to him, tucking her legs beneath her and leaning against his shoulder. The pressure was comforting and he decided against sending her away. She slipped her hand into his and he closed his eyes.

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated and it sounded a little better this time.

*

In the morning he met with father again. He took him to a coffee cart on campus. Public, he’d learned, was always better. Immediately Hotch noticed little things about his dad’s appearance he had overlooked the day before. How red his eyes were, the tiny blood vessels burst from too much coughing. The way his skull seemed unnaturally large for his body, even with the padding of a suit, something was visibly off. His father filled him in on his talks with the school. How he had convinced the disciplinary board to wait on results of the legal proceedings, the consequences to his school standing to be determined based on the outcome of that investigation. He barely paid attention, so mesmerized by the surreal feeling of sitting on a bench drinking coffee with his father.

Other than at the dinner table, which held its own dangers, he didn’t think there was ever a time he was sitting down with the man. He could remember being the one sitting, being towered over as he struggled to do his homework, numbers and letters swimming hopelessly on the page. He would try so hard not to cry because that always made it worse, the tears warping the shapes even more. He could also remember being the one standing. Shivering on the porch, banished for some long forgotten transgression, watching through the window as the rest of his family gathered in the living room. They always looked so perfect through the window, he could never blame them for the way he was treated. He brought it on himself and didn’t deserve to be a part of anything warm and good.

“Luckily, it appears that the person you attacked is an even bigger idiot than you.”

This new statement brought him out of his memories. He ignored the insult and tried to remain patient as he waited for his father to share whatever information he’d uncovered.

“It seems that Kaden Willits has two DUIs on his record already, not even twenty-one yet. He is currently on probation. I think that if we can press him in the right way, he will crawl back into his hole.” His father looked altogether too satisfied with himself.

Hotch felt the back of his neck start to itch. He rubbed it. “How are we going to do that?”

“Stop fidgeting. I think it’s perfectly obvious. We’ll send that friend of yours with a message. He can drop the charges or he will find himself facing some unpleasant realities.”

Hotch tightened his grip on his coffee cup, risking crushing it entirely. “I don’t want to involve her.”

“It doesn’t really matter what you want, does it?”

Hotch hung his head. Of course it didn’t, but he couldn’t let Emily be dragged into this. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father’s hand move and flinched, hating how quickly he had fallen back into this role. But his father was only pulling a notepad and pen out of his jacket.

“Write her number down, I will call her later,” he sounded businesslike and cold.

Hotch didn’t move. He weighed his options. He could refuse. His father could probably find another way. It wouldn’t be good for him, he was sure, but if it kept Emily far away from his dad it would be worth it.

The notepad was pushed right under his nose. “Do it. Now.” There was a familiar warning edge to the words. Numerous unspecified threats threaded into a few syllables. Don’t make a scene, or else.

But Hotch wasn’t willing to give this one up. What, really, could the man do to him that he hadn’t already? He stood up, straightening the cuffs of his sweater, the coffee forgotten on the bench. He met his father’s astonished look as steadily as he could. “No.”

His father got up quickly, placing a hand on the back of the bench to offset the dizziness of the sudden movement. “What did you—“

“Find a different way.” He turned away, the fear was beginning to escape and he needed to leave before he lost his resolve. A hand gripped his forearm tightly. He turned back, looking slowly from the hand restraining him into his father’s face. He was so furious, Hotch wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t just strike him there in the middle of campus. He almost gave in, like he had hundreds of times before. Maybe I can try, maybe it will be different this time. Then he thought of Emily, disoriented at his door in the middle of the night, how he turned her away, how he failed her then and how he couldn't let it happen again. With a final surge of courage, he pulled his arm free and walked away.

*

He had made her promise to stay out of it, to leave this to him. In turn, he promised to cooperate with his dad, to do what he could to get out of this since (she insisted) he didn’t deserve it. She meant to stick to her promise. But she also couldn’t resist the urge to learn more about Hotch and his dad. The little glimpses weren’t enough and Emily’s curiosity got the better of her.

When he informed her he was meeting his dad that morning, that she should go to breakfast without him, she accepted without argument. She couldn’t help that he was leaving the building just in front of her, nor that he was too focused to notice her following a little ways behind. Her curiosity only grew as she watched them greet each other frostily. She didn’t like the way Hotch seemed to shrink into himself, barely looking up from the ground as they walked.

When they stopped, she stopped, finding a ledge to sit on where she would be out of Hotch’s line of sight. She was jealous of the coffee they bought and shifted a little, considering if she could make it through the ordering process at the cart without Hotch noticing. She watched them talk, or mostly it seemed like his dad spoke and he listened. She wished she could hear but she knew how unhappy Hotch would be to discover her lurking.

So she waited, studying how so many of Hotch’s mannerisms were mirrored in his father. Or, rather, it was the other way around. She was deep into her meditation on this phenomenon when Hotch suddenly stood up. She scrambled up too, looking for somewhere to hide, afraid he would catch her spying. There was a building behind her and she ran up the steps to dip into the shadows of the doorway. She got there just in time to watch Hotch walk away as his father looked on. Neither one looked pleased and she wanted to know what she had missed. They were supposed to be discussing strategies and this did not look like a good sign.

She waited for Hotch to get a little farther away, far enough that he wasn’t likely to double back. Then she did something she knew she shouldn’t. She just couldn’t help it. She approached his father, now sitting heavily on the bench again, pinching the bridge of his nose like Hotch did when he had a headache or he was deeply irritated. She shook off the eerie feeling of familiarity.

“Excuse me?” she tried not to sound too tentative.

“What?” he snapped at her.

“Hi, I’m Emily.” She held out her hand awkwardly, trying to seem braver than she felt. When he didn’t react she added, “I called you. About Aaron.” She barely remembered to use his given name.

He smiled at her and it was frightening. She could imagine Hotch in twenty years, if life took away all his laughter and kindness, this was what he would look like. She was still too young to think about the future in anything but abstracts but she prayed that wouldn’t be the way things turned out.

“I was hoping to speak to you, Ms.—“ he paused, clearly expecting her to provide this forgotten detail.

“Prentiss.” She was distracted by the coldness of his hand as he shook hers. She inspected it to make sure it was really skin she touched.

“Yes, of course. Well, I was going to call you later but since you are here now,” he gestured that she should sit down in the unoccupied space. She was wary of him but accepted. She was interested to find out why he wanted to talk to her and badly wanted to help if she could.

He frowned as he looks her over, clearly unimpressed with her casual appearance. All exposed knees and elbows, bitten fingernails and a messy bun. He was not surprised this was a person who would get his son into trouble, nor was he surprised at his son’s poor taste. It was too late to undo that now, but he believed he could make use of her. Her weaknesses were obvious and he had no hesitations about manipulating them to get what he wanted.

“You got my son arrested,” his tone was not outwardly hostile but her throat closed at the accusation. She shook her head.

“No? Isn’t that what you told me? That this is your fault?” The questions almost sounded friendly.

“No!” she said hastily. “I mean it is my fault, kind of. He was just looking out for me and things got…carried away.” That was the most generous description of what happened that she could think of.

“Why would he need to attack someone to ‘look out’ for you?”

She swallowed, feeling as if she had stepped into a trap. She had been as vague as she could on the phone, only giving the most general details of how Hotch had ended up knocking someone out. Mr. Hotchner stared at her, his patience edged with a clear expectation that his questions were answered.

“Well, the other guy, Kaden, he did something. To me. He hurt me.”

“This is when Aaron attacked him?”

She shook her head again. “No, it was awhile ago.”

“That is not protection, that is revenge. I’m not sure I will be able to argue he was defending you if it wasn’t an immediate threat.” He allowed himself to sound a little worried and was pleased to see her start to chew on a fingernail. The habit disgusted him but it was such an easy indication of how a person was feeling. He wanted her feeling guilty, vulnerable to the request he planned to make.  

“But it was really bad. The thing that he did.” She didn’t want to say it, hoped he wouldn’t make her spell it out.

“How bad can it be? You seem fine. My son is fine. The only person actually hurt here is Mr. Willits.” He watched her crumble.

“He’s the guilty one, he’s the one who should be in jail,” she insisted. She couldn’t understand why she was having to convince Hotch’s father. Surely he knew his own son would never hurt someone else without a good reason.

“What is he guilty of? You’re going to need to be more specific if you want to help Aaron out of this.”

She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the bench with both hands, digging her nails into the weathered slats. She did want to help, she’d do anything to help. She gritted her teeth. “He raped me.”

“And you have proof?”

She looked up at him, startled. He looked back at her evenly.

“Generally, you need proof to successfully back up a claim like that. Eyewitnesses, medical records, police reports.” He sounded almost bored but inside he was enjoying twisting the knife. He knew there wasn’t any proof. What a stupid girl. He was somehow even more disappointed in his son now.

“No,” she whispered. “There’s nothing like that.”

He frowned sternly, seeming to review the facts. “This does not look good for Aaron I’m afraid. Even if you were to testify that Mr. Willits attacked you—where did this happen?”

“At a party,” she sounded miserable.

He raised his eyebrows and continued, “That he attacked you at a party, awhile ago. I don’t know that would even help at all.”

“Please! There has to be something you could do?” She was still hopeful that this man, unkind as he was turning out to be, would be able to fix this.

He shook his head sadly, “No, I’m not sure there is.” He paused, watching her shoulders slump, her foot swinging beneath her like an unmannered child. “Unless…”

She looked at him again, eyes bright. He had her exactly where he wanted her.

“Well, if Mr. Willits were to drop the charges, it is unlikely the case would continue. Prosecutors don’t usually waste their time on college fights.”

“Why would he do that?” she asked, puzzled.

“While you do not have any proof to back up your allegations, the man is no saint. I believe if you were to go remind him of his precarious position he would fold rather quickly.”

His words stung but she grabbed onto the little bit of hope he dangled. “What if he doesn’t listen to me?”

“I have something prepared for that scenario as well. When you go speak with him, you’ll need to take this with you,” he pulled two vials of clear liquid out of his pocket. “You’ll need to find somewhere discreet to place them before you leave.”

She stared at the vials, unable to process what he was asking her to do. He pressed them into her hand. She automatically closed her fingers around them, the glass warming in her palm.

“What…what is it?”

“I wonder you don’t recognize it. It’s GHB. Maybe you should study it for your future reference.” He was no longer pretending to be friendly. He knew she would do this, really he’d known since he’d heard the panic in her voice when he first threatened to hang up on her. Now he had put the plan in motion, all he had to do was wait.

Emily felt hollow, knowing she has been tricked somehow and knowing she couldn’t back out. She wanted to get away from this evil pretending to be a father but she couldn’t move. All she could do was stare at her closed fist, feeling as if its contents are burning far hotter than the heat they derived from her body.

Mr. Hotchner stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. “Good day, Ms. Prentiss. Make sure you take care of that soon, there’s no time to waste.” He walked away, congratulating himself.

*

She was nervous. More than nervous, she was terrified. She considered having a drink. Nothing excessive, just enough so that her hands stopped shaking, enough that she could see through the buzzing around her eyes. She wrapped her hand around the two damning objects in her pocket. She had kept them in there since Mr. Hotchner gave them to her. Too afraid to let them out of her sight but looking at them doesn’t make her feel any better. She feared she would break them.

She studied herself in the mirror, searching for strength. It was now or never. She had been avoiding Hotch since she got back to the dorm and he was going to notice soon. She didn’t think she could hide the fact that she’d spoken with his dad and she knew he wouldn’t let her do what she needed to do. He wouldn’t understand that she didn’t have a choice. If there were other ways out of this, she’d missed them all and now this was the only path. She could do it. She could be strong.

Fuck it, she dug around in her desk drawer until she came up with a tiny bottle of bourbon, the kind passed out on airplanes. She drank it quickly, ignoring the burn in favor of the sweet weight that settled around her shoulders, smothering the buzzing of her nerves. Not giving herself time to think, she headed out, running down the stairs rather than pause to wait for the elevator. She found that once she had some momentum, it was easier to ignore all the doubts, to see only the clarity of the plan.

As she got closer, the fear tried to creep back, slowing her steps. She clenched her fists and pushed forward. There were people hanging around the front, not quite a party though they were trending towards one. Only a couple more beers and they could very easily be persuaded into transitioning to something louder, rowdier. She didn’t see him among these porch dwellers and they barely noticed as she slipped in the front door.

Inside was more of the same, though the place was cleaner than the other times she’d been here. Apparently someone did clear out the empty cups and cans at some point between evenings. He was also not in here, a fact that was simultaneously helpful and worrying. She’d need to get to his room to plant the drugs but that was absolutely the last place she wanted to be, alone, with him. She climbed the stairs of the courtyard, repeating to herself the lines she’d come up with. Though the doors were identical, she remembered exactly which one was his. It was partially open. Perhaps he wasn’t even home, maybe she could just do what she needed to and leave. Forget the threats and skip to getting him in trouble. No such luck. She could see his back from the doorway, sitting at his desk, bent over some work. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open all the way. He turned when he heard her, his face ugly and swollen.

“What the hell do you want?”

She couldn’t speak, all the fear and the shock overtaking her.

He laughed sourly. “You like?” He waved at the black and purple bruising as he swiveled his chair to face her straight on. “Your friend is going to fucking regret it when he finds out how popular he is in prison.”

The mention of Hotch was all she needed to spark her to action. “Listen, asshole,” she spoke louder than she meant to, rage ignited and curling upwards through her chest. “You are going to drop the charges and leave us the fuck alone.”

He was too shocked to react for a second then he really started laughing. So much so that he was out of breath. She stomped her foot, which she knew was petulant but she wanted his attention, wanted him to hear exactly what she had to say.

“You’re insane,” he said.

“I’m not. You will, or else.”

Suddenly he was up, standing close to her. “Or else what?” His voice was low, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Then, just as quickly, he was bent over, gasping for breath. She had punched him with all her weight, just below the sternum.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hissed.

He looked up at her from his half standing position, somehow still smirking. She wanted to rip his face off.

“Okay, I’ll play. What’s the ‘or else’?” he said once he caught his breath.

“You are on probation,” she said calmly, walking further into the room, taking advantage of the space created when she’d hit him. She kept herself between him and the door.

“Yes?” He was suspicious, this was not common information. His parents had paid a lot of money to make that trouble go away, though after the second DUI they couldn’t quite pay to get rid of it entirely.

“If you don’t drop the charges, your probation officer is going to hear some stories about what you’ve been up to recently.” She spoke slowly as she ran her fingers across the desktop.

Fully recovered now, he snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “What, you think they care what slutty college girls have to say?”

She stopped her idle tour of his room and looked at him. She shrugged a shoulder. “They might.”

He shook his head. “No one is going to believe you. No one.”

“Maybe they will, maybe they won’t.” She turned to walk back to the door, hands in her pockets. “But, you want to know what I know?”

“Please, I’m dying to hear it.” He was sarcastic but, though he would never admit it, this had him a little worried. Her calm was unnerving, the shift in power inexplicable but impossible to ignore.

She stopped at the doorway, her glare a knife that carved straight through him, “If you did it to me, you’ve done it to others. Once people start asking questions, it’s only a matter of time before they find something on you. You’re not as smart as you think you are.”

She forced herself not to run down the stairs, not to look like she was fleeing the scene of a crime. The adrenaline spiked in her chest as she walked out the front door. She couldn’t stop from smiling, a ferocious expression that would have caused anyone who saw it to be concerned.

*

On Thursday Emily dragged Hotch outside. She told him he’d been scowling at the wall so much the paint was going to start peeling. That there was no point in sitting inside worrying. That he should just trust his dad to take care of it. The look he gave her when she said that would have stripped an entire house-worth of paint. She pointedly ignored it and pulled his hand until he reluctantly got out of bed and put on his shoes. She chattered to him about what she wanted to eat. He wasn’t really listening, assuming she would lead them wherever it was she wanted to go. He felt his phone ringing and pulled it out. He froze when he saw his father’s name flashing. They hadn’t talked since he rejected the man’s horrible plan. He almost convinced himself that his dad had changed his mind about helping and left him to fend for himself. Emily, who hadn't noticed that he stopped at first, looked behind her and saw his distressed expression.

“Who is it?”

“My father,” he replied dully. He didn’t know if he should answer. It might be safer to let him take it out on his voicemail, to listen to whatever horrible things he had to say with a buffer.

“Maybe he’s heard something?” she said encouragingly.

He made a noise of half-hearted agreement and pressed his lips together before answering.

“They’ve dropped the charges,” his father didn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Oh,” Hotch wasn’t sure he could believe it. “How did you…” he trailed off, not sure he actually wanted the answer to that question.

“You are welcome,” he said, dismissing the partial question.

Hotch stumbled to thank him, apologizing at the same time. He didn’t know how to feel, what to say.

“Never, ever call me for something like this again,” he continued severely. Hotch started to promise that he wouldn’t before he got cut off. “I will disown you rather than be involved in your delinquency.”

Hotch was silent.

“Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

The line went dead without any further exchange. He looked at Emily who was watching him closely. The show of breezy unconcern she had been putting on earlier dropped completely. Her dark eyes were intense and questioning.

“They dropped the charges?” It came out as a question, he was still so surprised.

She shrieked as she rushed at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. He barely registered it through the shock. They stood there, blocking the path, letting the news sink in. He slowly allowed himself to believe what he’d just been told: that things were going to be ok, things can be good again. She peeled away from him, talking about celebrating and towing him along by the hand. As they passed a trashcan she pulled something from her pocket and tossed it in without breaking their stride. She squeezed his hand and he looked down at her, a big dumb smile on his face.

[zahneundklauen-retired]

Lead And I Will Follow || Ariana and Alcher

TIMING: Sometime after Alcher got back from dreamland (Current-ish) PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Alcher and Ariana discuss what the future might hold and how the present might unfold. CONTENT: None!

It was hard to know, now, what was real and what wasn’t. And while Alcher hadn’t seen Klaus since she’d “woken up”-- but oh did she wish to, oh how she wanted to-- she still wasn’t sure she could truly trust anything she was seeing. Was this bench real? Was the farm real? Was the figure coming up the drive real? Her sense had never failed her before, but she hadn’t even realized who it was until she could see them in front of her. Ariana. But even reaching out to touch the girl couldn’t prove she was real, could it? And so Alcher waited, watching her with tired eyes. The bags that had grown under them showed off the lack of sleep the older wolf was getting, and the creaking of her joints reminded her of how long it had been since she’d changed. She felt stiff, solid, frozen. Her head always hurt. Her chest felt empty. She hadn’t told a soul what had happened in that dream world, the shame wrought inside of her like a poison-- not even Ulfric. She wanted to be strong for her new pack, but how could she remember her love for them when she could not feel her old family’s? Blinking away the thoughts, she stood up from her spot on the bench outside to greet the young pup. “It’s good to see you,” she said with a ghostly smile, “it’s been a while. Have you reconsidered living here at all?”

The farm had quickly begun to feel like a second home of sorts. It wasn’t quite a cabin in the woods, but Ariana found she felt at ease there all the same. It was definitely more spacious than her apartment and Alcher and Ulf always seemed more than happy to have her there. In theory, moving in would have been easy, but as it stood, she realized Alcher didn’t even really know about Celeste let alone Athena. Or her friendship with Rio and Kaden. Then again, had they not had a good talk after everything with Adam? It was hard for her to wrap her head around. This living squarely in between two worlds wasn't easy, especially when she was in a spiral of doubting her own ability to truly help anyone. Her own worries seemed to slip away as she made her way up to the farm. Alcher... did not look good. If she was going to be frank about it, she might even say Alcher looked like shit. Her limbs and eyes both seemed heavy. It even took her longer than normal to acknowledge who was approaching when she was normally so sharp. Just in time, Alcher was up to greet her and Ariana offered a smile. “It’s good to see you too,” she said with a slightly quirked brow, “I haven’t. The place looks great and I love you guys, but I couldn’t imagine leaving Athena. It’s… well different kind of love and all. Doesn’t mean I won’t be by all the time.” She gave Alcher a slight nudge, but still couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t quite right. “How are you doing? You look… tired.” 

“Ah, yes, your new, er--” Alcher started, but lately she’d been forgetting more and more English words. It was supposed to be a simple one. “Freundin, partner.” That was what Ulfric had told her she and him were, and it had warmed her heart. She hoped Ariana felt the same with her Athena. “I take it she is treating you well, then? And you her?” she motioned for Ariana to come sit with her, sliding an arm around her shoulders. The height difference between them seemed less so now when her body hung her so heavy she slouched. As they sat, Alcher moved with great effort, leaning back with a sigh of relief once she was down again. Usually her body healed quickly, but she supposed super healing didn’t apply to a body that was damaged in another realm. Perhaps the ink that had swallowed them was still in her lungs, her heart, her veins. “I am...dealing,” she answered. It was the only answer she had. Perhaps Ariana was not even real, and Alcher was simply having another conversation with her own consciousness. She shook the thought away and reached out to squeeze Ariana’s hand, grounding herself in this reality. “I can not really begin to describe what happened, it’s as if it was really just a dream…” her voice tapered off as her eyes glossed over slightly. A beat later and she blinked, coming back to herself. “It was not without consequence, though. But,” she turned to look at Ariana, “I am home and I am alive, and that counts for something.” It had to, otherwise everything she’d sacrificed would be for nothing.

“Freudin,” Ariana repeated slowly, “Girlfriend, but partner also works. More general and suits everyone, you know?” There was still something about any of the words that excited her still. While they had settled into a comfortable routine together, there was a certain magic to it all. How even her heaviest moments seemed lighter somehow. “Yes, we’re treating each other well. Supporting each other and all that. It’s been nice.” There was only a slight hint of a blush on her cheeks that faded just as quickly as her head tilted. Alcher’s response was arguably more of a nonanswer that left her wanting answers. It was likely that Alcher didn’t want to put any problems on her, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Couldn’t help but want to help before that familiar sinking feeling rose up in her. Help. Something she longed so much to give yet whenever she tried, she only seemed to make things worse. No, this wasn’t about her and wasn’t time to sink back into those darker feelings that kept creeping back to the surface no matter how hard she tried to push past them and remind herself that trying was always worth the pain. “Dealing,” she said slowly as she tried to formulate how to approach this, “A dream? Can you try… to, you know, describe it?” Whatever had Alcher in this state, she definitely wanted to know about it though she wished she realized something was up sooner. Alcher was always so quick to offer help to her, it felt like that should go both ways. “It does count, for a lot, but so does whatever you went through.” 

“Good,” Alcher said, patting Ariana’s leg, “good. You deserve someone who can make you happy like that. As long as she’s treating you well.” Her voice trailed off a moment, as if she were contemplating something. “That’s all that matters.” She turned her head to look at Ariana and wondered if, perhaps, she’d completely lost it, and this version of the girl was a conjuring of her own imagination. How would she be able to tell? Sure, she could smell Ariana, and hear the sound of her voice, and even see the blurry shape of her figure beside her, but if her senses could have been tricked once before, why not again? She simply let out a breath and closed her eyes, trying to remember as best she could. “I promise you, Ariana, I am not trying to...minimize what I went through, but it is not your responsibility to pick me up from it,” she opened her eyes to look at her again. “I want to be the best I can be for you and while that may take some time to get back to, I will get there. You need just look out for you and make sure you are doing your best.” She would not want to look so weak as to need to lean on her pups. No, she had Ulfric for her more immediate needs, and others for her more difficult ones. 

“I’m inclined to agree with you, but I think most people deserve someone like that in their life,” Ariana agreed with a slight shrug. Hell, a little bit of love could make a hell of a lot of a difference for most. Alcher may have had her own thoughts on that, but it was hard to gauge. Where Ariana was an open book, Alcher seemed to keep her troubles close to her heart. She trusted Alcher, she had earned that much, but she wished she’d show a bit of vulnerability. Wolves had the pack so no one had to be strong all the time. There was a slight frown on her face as Alcher spoke and she looked down at her lap momentarily to refrain from letting out a sigh. “It’s not about whether it’s my responsibility. I care about you. If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to do it,” she explained earnestly. If she really thought about it, she could understand Alcher’s tendency to be a bit more reserved with her troubles, but emotion ruled and she found herself pressing for that trust she put in the older wolf to be returned. “You already are,” she insisted, “It’s not- your best isn’t something that stays the same, okay? It’s always changing and right now you’re at your best given whatever you’ve gone through. Maybe I can’t change what happened, but I can be here now. And pr- assure that I’m staying out of trouble on my end. But we’re wolves, we’re here for each other. It’s kind of our thing.” She reached to give Alcher’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Maybe she was pushing too hard, but after everything Alcher had done for her, the least she could do was offer some support. 

“Hmmmm…” Alcher hummed quietly, contemplating. “Yes, most people do.” She wondered if she did. She wondered if she deserved what she did have. If she couldn’t even protect her family, how could she protect a pack? Were any of the packs she’d helped better off now? Was Cain’s pack doing okay? She wondered if they would welcome her back. She wondered if they missed her. She missed them, sometimes. Her mind came back to the little wolf sitting next to her and she blinked. She frowned, furrowed her brow. “I...would not even know what to ask of you, Ariana,” she admitted quietly, “because I do not know what I need.” For the first time in her life, she had no idea what she needed. There was no vengeance left, no stain on her past, no family to hold. There was just-- this. A farm, a pack, a partner. She wanted a family. So, perhaps, she did know what she needed. “You’ve always been so strong, Ariana,” she said then, turning to look at her. She appreciated the gentle touch, the reassuring stare. “The others look up to you, you know. They’ll need your help. I can only give them so much.” She would give them her entire body, soul and mind and all, if they asked. “RIght now I think I need you to...be there for them, while I can’t. I want this place to be...a home for them. I’d like to think it could be full one day.” She turned her wistful gaze out onto the land that stretched towards the horizon, and the treeline. “Ulfric wants that, too.”

Ariana found she admired Alcher’s quiet strength. The way she carried herself always had a hint of pride to it. Life hadn’t been easy for either of them, but if Alcher persevered through it all, maybe she could too. Even on the days she wasn’t so sure she could. It was evident the elder wolf still carried pain close to her heart. Maybe it wasn’t something she felt inclined to share, but in its way, it made Alcher easier to relate to. Even this wolf, who in her mind had been relentlessly fierce and almost untouchable, had moments of vulnerability. Even if they weren’t shared with her, it was a good reminder to stay strong. To keep pushing. “That’s okay,” she responded gently, “It’s not always easy figuring out what you need. But for what it’s worth, I’m here and I care.” Ariana decided being there was what she could do. Alcher was so determined to help wolves all around the world, so she could be here. She could be strong. She could help Luis and Damien even if the latter fought tooth and nail to keep her at arm’s length. She found herself looking up as Alcher spoke of her strength and how the others looked up to her. It was nice to hear. “You are too-- strong that is,” she said easily, “And I’ll do my best for the others, too. I think Luis could use somewhere to call home. Hell, I bet if Damien pulled his head out of his ass for all of thirty seconds, he’d like that, too.” There was a bit of a laugh as she spoke of Damien. Annoying him had become a bit of a hobby for her, but she had the feeling she was getting under his skin. It made that dream they shared that much more achievable. She smiled softly. “I think one day, we’ll all be here together roasting meat over an open fire and just… laughing. Singing. Enjoying ourselves. And that’s because of you and Ulf.” 

“It is worth so much,” Alcher reassured Ariana, giving her a pat on the hand. And it was. She would not lie about that, even to make a pup feel better. Ariana was so much stronger than the rest of them, her resolve so unshaken. She knew the girl had been through a lot, but it showed, and she proved herself time and time again that she had a good head between her shoulders. Her only fault laid with the humans and hunters she so desperately protected. But Alcher didn’t have the energy-- nor the will-- the fight that battle right now. It could come later, when she was better. When things were back to normal. If that ever happened. “Luis is...so lost,” she sighed. The poor boy was going to run himself to death if he kept thinking his wolf was a disease that he could find a cure for. She was touched, though, that he tried so hard to connect with her. Damien, on the other hand, was left to his own devices. While she cared for all wolves, she could see the hate inside of him that would drive his path, and she could do nothing but offer him her guidance if he so wanted it. He was old enough to make his own choices. “I hope so, too,” she said, pulling her thoughts back to the present. “I think I’d like that.” She looked out across the farm and saw, in a momentary lapse, her brothers running free and wild across a field of lush green. Rolling, playing, laughing. She felt nothing for it, and emptier for that. “If you find something important, Ariana, hold onto it. Tighter than anything else. Okay?”

The reassuring gesture left Ariana feeling a little better about everything. She still worried for Alcher and whatever it is that she may have gone through recently, but better than most, she knew there was no changing the past. Sometimes just being there for people you cared for had to be enough even if you wanted to give them the world. There was a soft grin on her face as Alcher patted her hand. The breeze that picked up around them perfectly mirrored the gentleness of the moment and carried with it the smell of new life coming into bloom. As nice as this moment was, Ariana found she did worry for Luis and she wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to help him. Nearly every time she spoke to him, she found herself confused and it seemed he managed to find so much trouble. “He is,” she said softly, “I’m not really sure how to help him. All of this is so new to him and White Crest is so well… White Crest. It’s good he at least believes what he is now, I just think acceptance and becoming one with the wolf side himself will take time.” She was able to gather that Luis didn’t really want to hurt anyone. Maybe showing him how she went through life could help. “What do you normally do to help new wolves get a good grip on all of this,” she asked, genuinely curious. Alcher probably knew better than anyone how to help new wolves. After all, travelling and helping packs was her life’s work. If she could pick up on some of what Alcher had to offer, she could help, too. And they’d be closer to that nice barbecue day together on the farm. “I thought you would,” she responded with a small smile before her face settled into a relaxed yet thoughtful glance out at the field. She nodded slowly, “I will. I think-- Well, we both know how easy the people we love can slip out of reach forever. But I’ll hold on to what’s important to me, always. And that includes you, Ulf, Luis, and even Damien.” 

The breeze was nice. Alcher closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feeling for a moment, as she listened to Ariana’s words, and thought on them. The truth was that she had not encountered anyone as lost as Luis. There had been many, lost to rage, or sorrow, or pain-- but never to the point of this. She was still deciding what was best. She wanted to take him in and hold him until he understood, and another part of her wanted to force him to face himself, his wolf, and embrace it, just like her father had made her and her brothers do. But that sentiment was....cold. An echo in her chest. “I’ve found the best way is to just...show them what you can. Show them that their wolf is not a monster. We are simply-- part of the ecosystem and we are at the top of the food chain. Our rage and our power does not have to be used to maim, and it can be controlled. But I think most of us are just...searching for peace, and it is a hard thing to achieve when a beast crawls in your chest.” She looked over at Ariana. “Perhaps he just needs someone who understands him more. We were both born as we are, but he lived a very human life up until his bite. I just do not...know who might be able to give him that.” Alcher reached up to rub her head, a sudden throb working its way across her temples. Sleepless nights had turned into painful afternoons. “Good things are never really gone, if we keep them in our hearts,” she mumbled. Her heart was cold and empty now, the good of her family taken by a creature who made empty promises.

Even when it was apparent things were not completely okay, Ariana found there to be something peaceful about sitting on the porch of the farm with Alcher. This space really felt like it could be a safe haven for the wolves. As the breeze swayed blades of grass, she could picture all of them running free out here. She could see them working with newer wolves to help them learn control. On summer days, she could see them out here barbecuing far too much meat and laughing away. She held on hope that they’d all see those good times together sooner rather than later. Her focus shifted back to Alcher as she took in every word. From the moment she’d met him, Ariana felt protective of Luis. He’d been so lost as to what he was and so sure he was sick. “That makes sense. I can definitely try to show him more and work with him on learning to embrace being a wolf. I think maybe acceptance plays into that, both the control and the peace. The way he talked about it was like it’s a disease,” she said slowly as she tried to wrap her head around some ideas. Maybe sparring out in the forest or meditation or something could help. Focusing in on her breathing had always helped her, but her wolflike nature was ingrained in her personality, she was never fighting herself or her instincts. And she also knew Alcher was right, they’d never really be able to understand his struggle. They were born this way and didn’t hate what they were because they’d never known anything else. “I try to understand, but I know I can’t. Maybe we’ll meet another new wolf who could relate to him better. I think Damien was bitten, but he’s not exactly the friendliest guy around.” Ariana could understand that, wanting to be understood. She let out a soft sigh and leaned back her seat. A lot of good things lived on in her heart, but they sure as hell felt gone. It was a nice sentiment though so she nodded, “As long as we carry them with us.” 

The breeze brought the scent of the forest around them to Alcher’s head and she felt a relief she hadn’t in a long time. It was a relief to know she had Ariana by her side, and it was a relief to know she had this place. It was her sanctuary, just like her home in Germany had been. She’d been searching for one for so long now. Had she even realized that, until this moment? She couldn’t be sure. “I think he might feel more at peace with someone closer to his age. I fear I might...intimidate him,” she admitted quietly, “but at least he knows, now, what he truly is. He poisons himself with our bane, though, and I wish there was a way to stop him from that. Perhaps with time, with demonstration.” She looked back over to Ariana. “I am sorry to place this burden on you, Ariana, but I believe you can be a great leader, one day.” She reached out to gently tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “A pack would be lucky to have you at its head.”

It was funny how something Ariana had always wanted could leave her feeling so uncertain. While the smells and sounds of the forest that surrounded the farm brought her a sense of ease, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was really the one to help or lead. All she knew was trying felt worlds better than leaving people she cared for hanging. “I think you may be right. I think age-wise we can relate well and I enjoy his music. I don’t love that he uses the wolfsbane, but I think it gives him a sense of control. Maybe not real control, but I believe he can get there,” she said thoughtfully. The next part was a little more tricky. Befriending hunters and even loving a select few of them either made her the best fit for leading or the worst. She was sure plenty of wolves would challenge her ideals just as she was sure many hunters would too. They all deserved some peace though. “Hm,” she sighed as she thought it over, “Thank you… and it’s not a burden. I think leading means being there for people you care about and that’s never something I’d consider a burden.” The gesture from Alcher left her feeling a bit warmer and less wary of everything they all faced. “No matter who is leading, I’ll always try to help other wolves in need,” she said more confidently this time and hoped that it ensured Alcher the wolves in White Crest would be well looked after even if she hoped that didn’t mean Alcher would make her way to another town soon. 

Ariana’s words nearly matched the same ones Alcher had said to her mother over three decades ago. Her mind tried to latch onto the memory, trying to remember why it had mattered so much. But it left nothing, only the burning ache that had replaced all of it. She closed her eyes and breathed in again, washing the memory away. She had new ones to create. “You’ll make a great leader,” she reiterated, patting her hand gently. She looked back out across the farm again and turned to Ariana. “How about we go for a run? We haven’t done that for a while. I can show you how far the property stretches and we can decide the best place to have our future barbeque.” 

[the-local-oddity]

AU Where Alister survives and joins Ratchet's little family. Joining Cronk and Zephyr in the "Cranky Grandpa Club".

Clank still ends up going back with them, although he takes a bit longer to start trusting Alister again, cuz, y'know. He killed Ratchet. (Which he isn't going to tell Ratchet about.)

Alister likes making up things about Lombax history and traditions, no one knows if he's lying or not and they don't want to question him. He only tells Ratchet the truth, because Ratchet deserves to know.

When Alister finds out the Ratchet has a crush on Tal, the teasing begins and it will never end. Although, he does give the best advice he can.

Ratchet, Clank, and Alister working on inventions and modifying ships together. Clank thinks that Alister will be another voice of reason, but he only encourages Ratchet more. Things start blowing up a lot more around their workshop.

Alister doesn't like Qwark. That's it.

Alister walking Ratchet through Fastoon and telling him all about what everything used to be, and even taking Ratchet to where his parents home used to be.

During training Ratchet accidentally calls Alister dad and he had to quietly excuse himself from the room so he could cry in peace.

During late nights he tells Ratchet and Clank stories from when he and Kaden were younger, he even tells them how Ratchet's parents met, that story makes Ratchet cry a bit.

After Cronk and Zephyr die, Alister is there to comfort Tal. He knows that feeling all too well.

He feels a lot of sympathy for the Prog Twins, and wants to help them get better in any way. He knows the pain they're feeling, but he also knows how to heal. (At least he does now).

He doesn't approve of Ratchet, Clank, and Qwark trying to befriend Nefarious, he's pretty sure it's all a trick and that Nefarious will turn on them.

Just Alister being a goofy grumpy grandpa please and thank you.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

We Both Go Down Together || Regan and Kaden

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

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

But what if it was his friend's sister?

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

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

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

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

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

Kaden.

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

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

She stared at the phone like it could bite her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[astharoshebarvon]

vampire knight

Will this be a rant? Of sorts, maybe.

It seems now there is another discourse in VK fandom, this time about whether Ren and Ai will be a romantic couple or not. Firstly, Hino is drawing them in a suggestive way, that’s true.

Do I care if they end up together or not? Not really. She has drawn Kaname and Zero in a suggestive way many times, hell, even in recent covers Zero is literally all over Kaname. Not to mention Zero/Kaname has way more fanfictions and incredible fanarts than either of the canon straight couples. It’s true, just check it.

Think what you want, above illustration is pure Zero/Kaname and Yume.

And, in the below one, Zero’s hand...Sorry, two rivals and enemies just don’t do that.

Look at the above illustration, that’s not how two guys stand if they are enemies, they just don’t.

Secondly, both Ai and Ren have an intense need of another’s blood. Now, many people say their relationship is creepy…

Sorry, but many shoujo mangas and mainstream novels have the same crap. The girl is obsessed with the boy and also ends up with him. Yikes. Gross.

And, those stories are celebrated. So, why be against these two? Oh, wait, it’s because they are not hetero.

Hino is not doing anything great even if they do come out as a couple, Clamp has done it many times and Clamp works are way more popular than Hino’s can ever be.

X, a shoujo genre manga has Kamui and Fuuma.

They loved each other, don’t even try to argue with me about it.

Seishirou and Subaru, the most tragic couple of manga and anime are also in it. CCS has Yue with Clow Reed, Yukito/Yue and Touya, Sakura and Tomoyo, some of these feelings are one sided, but none of them are hated.

These couples are way more popular than whole VK manga. Rg Veda, another shoujo has Amaterasu and Souma, Taishakuten and Ashura-ou, Yasha and Ashura can also be interpreted as an M/M couple. Oh, wait. That’s canon. They are together in Tsubasa.

And, don’t get me started on Fai and Kurogane. There you go people, these are shonen and shoujo mangas which have same sex couples.

And, the readers know there was something going on between Fai and Kurogane even if it’s not stated explicitly.

Clamp literally said,”do not call Fuuma and Kamui brothers”. They are soulmates. They don’t even mention the obsessed fangirl, kotori.

Arina Tanemura, whose stories are a perfect example of a  fangirl ending with the guy they were after, also has a single M/M couple in one of her works. Mostly in her stories, the main girl likes one guy, but in the end, that guy never ends up with her. He ends up with one of the obsessed fangirls.

Am I still bitter about how dirty the mangaka did Itsuki Otomiya? Yes. The sweetheart doesn’t even know Haine was his daughter, and the whole bloody cast had coloured illustrations, a freaking artbook is there for the series, but not a single illustration for him. Yikes.

I hope she redeems herself and makes Tokita and Chikage a couple in 31 Ai dreams. The only series of hers which didn’t have this cliché was Sakurahime Kaden and Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne.

And, let’s be honest, Eiichi would have have ended up with another fangirl if he wasn’t dead in Full moon. Thank god he was spared that bullshit. But, then again, he dies. That’s not good either.

Gentleman’s alliance cross, Nekota are just bad. Yes, the art is beautiful, but that doesn’t mean the males of her series deserved to end up with obsessive fangirls.

The one with underage relationship, Nekota or whatever [thank god that was never picked up by Viz.] In this, the blue haired dude, Serizawa, who the main girl liked from the beginning didn’t end up with her, he ended up with a fangirl. Ugh.

And, it is incestuous, the girl has feelings for her underage cousin.  Right.

Her art is beautiful, but damn it, her stories are so annoying.

For her only M/M couple in shinshi doumei cross, she had to make one half of the MM couple a cross dresser.

The guy, Maora was wearing woman’s clothing every time he and Maguri were shown together. He was never once shown as his real, tall self with Maguri.

And, she has said she isn’t comfortable with yaoi, but is okay with shonen ai.

Right.

But the point is, it’s been done many times.

In Hana Kimi, one of the protagonist’s elder brother is gay. He was the school’s physician if I am not wrong. So, Hino is not doing anything new.

Kyou Kara Maou is a shoujo manga, but it has Wulfrum and Yuri, two guys as a main couple. Granted, nothing happens, but they are engaged.

The manga was published in Asuka, a shoujo magazine.

Same goes for uraboku, Luka loves Yuki, regardless of the fact whether he is a female or a male. Senshirou and Kuroto were together, Hotsuma and Shusei were married in previous lives and they were very much together in the present as well.

Do I think Ren and Ai will end up together, I dunno. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. But I don’t think she will show them as a couple. If she will, fine. If she doesn’t, then also fine. They have an intense desire to be with each other, and their relationship is not parallel to Kaname and Yuuki’s or Haruka and Juri’s.

One can say they are like Rido, Yuuki’s uncle, not like the above two couples.

There are many differences between them and the two couples.

And, let’s not forget the harem Sara created, in fact she even kissed one of the girls.

Do I care about Ren and Ai ? No.

My sole reason for reading this manga is: Yume. Just bring Yuuki back and show Yume happily ever after. I really don’t care who ends up with whom.

But some reasons regarding Renai are hypocritical. This manga has incest, why are you being bothered by it now? Hell, she drew Ichiru and Zero in suggestive way too, and Zero’s care for Ichiru could also be questioned in that case.

I am not sure if the above is Zero and Ichiru or Zero with another personality of his, I don’t want to see my artbook right now, but it can be seen as Zero and Ichiru.

We don’t like yuri and yaoi.

Well, in that case I really hope it happens so it’ll tick off the people who make this statement. Yes, it’s a derogatory statement.

If the mangaka wants to do it, she can, it’s her choice. Hate her for it, plenty do. Zekis and yumes do for their reasons. I dislike the way she does things too, I hate many things she has done. But, hey she still did them.

Read Yona of the dawn in that case, that’s the only series which isn’t “problematic”

But,  Kija and Jaeha can be shipped in that too. I do ship them. And, the author has drawn shonen ai doujinshi’s.

And, Yona was in love with Su-won in the beginning, who is her cousin. Incest is incest, whether it’s between siblings or cousins, they are family.

I really don’t think Hino will show Ren and Ai as a couple. Siblings who are weirdly close, yes. Romantic couple, I don’t think so. If I am wrong, fine.

Just give me my Yume happy ending, and Takuma and Seiren scenes. I literally don’t care about the kids relationship. I just don’t. First, I had to suffer through that traitor’s crap with the stupid bint, Sayori, now this.

Edit :  Finally I read this chapter…

I don’t understand how anyone can even compare whatever crap that is going on between Ai and Ren to Yume and Haruka / Juri. The Kuran couples never looked so fucking weird with each other.

I was absolutely right in thinking their feelings for each other are reminiscent of what Rido felt. Just because Ai is Yume’s daughter doesn’t mean she’s a perfect character. Give me a break. Then again she had a crush on Zero as well.

And, she was raised among people like Ruka and Aidou, traitors and obsessed idiots. It’s no wonder she turned out idiotic.

She looks weird when she says, “she had her sister with her” to Youko.

I am not going to post the image cause its just bad.

Yume and Haruka/Juri were never so fucking creepy. Never.

Ren is just so bland and sad in everything that I don’t know what to think. Youko was the only one who wasn’t weird in this Ch.

The author should just wrap this up, it’s neither interesting nor is evoking any feelings in readers. It’s as bad Sayori/Aidou crap. Just stop with the useless story arcs, show Kaname and Yuuki together and end this shit.

I really don’t think the two girls will end up together. Their scenes aren’t sweet, and if she wants to show them, just do it and move on. They are both boring and least interesting. They are so bad it will not matter whether are together or apart.

They are as bad as other creepily obsessed M/F couples in novels and shoujo manga where the obsessed fangirl ends with the boy. This trope itself is gross. Who even cares about them?

They are only being hyped because they are two girls. When people thought Ren was a boy there wasn’t much reaction. I know there wasn’t. But now that they are two girls…

Hate them because they are stupid, no point in saying we don’t like them because its FF relationship. That’s just bigotry. Or maybe the author should be honest and say I wanted Zero and Kaname to fuck but Yuuki kept on getting in the way. So, I decided to pair their daughters together. because according to the author incest is fine in VK.  Just drop this crap already Hino.

I mean what the hell is up with this boring arc ?

I don’t even understand why stupid shit like this is overlooked in MF couples but if same happens in same sex, everyone is like, looks its unhealthy.  Incest, age difference, obsessed idiots/ fangirls, they are all bad.

I love Clamp, but that Rika and Terada thing was just plain gross. Same goes for Rin and Sesshoumaru.

I kept on telling myself about the latter one, no they are a parent child relationship. But at one point, I had to accept it was anything but family love. I love Sesshoumaru and always will. But I can’t get behind Rin/Sessh or whatever nonsense it was. Sessrin is celebrated, it’s a fact. It’s creepy, don’t deny it.

I know some of their artists and Sesskag [yuck] kept on leaving rude comments on SessKik fanworks, my favourite ship.

And Terada/Rika thing is overlooked because, let’s be honest CCS is fucking awesome. I overlook it and concentrate on yue yukito/ touya, syaoran/sakura.

I just want this RenAi thing to go away. I can’t stand either of them. Just show Kaname and Yuuki together and end this series. Hino should wrap it up and start a new one. VK will not gain the popularity it had at one point no matter what. The author is just coming off as desperate.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Frank Castle Masterlist

NONE OF THESE ARE MINE!!! I did NOT write any of these! I believe they are amazing fanfics, written by insanely talented people, and deserve to be shared. ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE AUTHORS!!!

Marvel Masterlist  Marvel Smut Masterlist

Frank Castle

3rd Shift in Hell's Kitchen by monroesherlock (Claire Temple & Everyone) How Claire Temple became the go to medic for struggling superheroes. AKA how Claire Temple accidentally adopted every vigilante in sight.

Smoke and Ash by Corpium Frank saves a child trafficking victim. She expects him to kill her. 

Frank Castle & Amy Bendix

Amy, in the Trailer, With the Gun by maplemood (Frank Castle & Amy Bendix) Missing scenes for 2x08 and 2x09; Amy waits for Frank.

You Good? by halelujah (Frank Castle & Amy Bendix)(Frank Castle x Karen Page) Amy FaceTimes Frank.

A late night phonecall by framboise (Frank Castle & Amy Bendix) "Frank, I need your help," her voice says when he answers the phone at 4am after limping inside an hour earlier with a new round of cuts and bruises. "What do you need me to do?" he asks, waking up in an instant, calculating how fast he can get to her, what weapons he can bring, how he can do the most hurt to the people that are threatening her. He hears her pause. "I need you to walk me down the aisle." "Jesus Christ, kid," he says and rubs his face with his hand, eying the half-empty bottle of whiskey on his nightstand.

just might get some sleep tonight by maplemood (Frank Castle & Amy Bendix) Except for the one time, Mom always did grab hold of Amy when she was sick or after she’d had a nightmare, held her and rocked her and said, You’re right here. You’re safe. You’re right here, Amy. It’s not like she’s asking Frank to do that.

Adventures in Babysitting by thatbluenote (Frank Castle & Amy Bendix) Amy Bendix comes back to New York City. It's a bad idea. Babysitting for the Lieberman kids is probably an even worse idea, but when has that ever stopped anything from happening in her life?

Frank Castle x Karen Page

Pax by Magical_Destiny (Frank Castle x Karen Page) When a tape showing the illegal detention and torture of the Punisher hits WikiLeaks, every reporter worth their salt has a field day. Karen Page, however, calls in sick and goes looking for a different story altogether. Namely, whether Frank Castle is okay.

You Good? by halelujah (Frank Castle & Amy Bendix)(Frank Castle x Karen Page) Amy FaceTimes Frank.

Frank Castle x Reader

Each Time by hayvocado (Frank Castle x Reader) The first time, the second time, the third time, and the last time. Maybe there'll be a next time.

The Dog Sitter by wolfeylover (Frank Castle x Reader) Moving to New York was simultaneously the best and worst decision you had ever made. On the one hand you lived in an apartment where the wallpaper was falling off the walls and music played through the walls through all hours of the night. On the other hand you met your incredibly handsome neighbor and his energetic pit bull. Your comfortable daily routine isn't safe though, and soon you'll have to face the truth about the man next door.

To Keep Safe by FFanon (Frank Castle x Reader) Frank's actions end up putting you in danger. Together, you figure out a way to stop it.

Frank Castle & Peter Parker

Not This One by Princessfbi (Frank Castle & Peter Parker) Peter Parker had been arrested. He had been arrested by two police officers who had dragged his arms behind his back and frog marched him to a K-9 SUV parked in an alleyway. He’d been arrested. Not actually arrested. It wasn’t until he felt the prick in his neck and his legs slipped out from under him did he realize that neither of the cops had told him what charge he was being arrested for nor did they read him his Miranda rights but still.

Aunt May's Suprise by Kaden (Koverstreet) (Frank Castle & Peter Parker)Peter once again loses someone but this time he has friends that will be there and defend him.

Frank Castle x Jessica Jones

a hand in your darkness so you won't be afraid by dev0n (Frank Castle x Jessica Jones) "Main Street," Frank says, voice calm and cool. "Birch Street. C'mon, Jess. Higgins Drive..." Jessica joins him on the last one. "Cobalt Lane." She takes a deep breath. One hand reaches out to wrap around Frank's wrist where it lays on the bed, tight enough that she feels him wince; but he doesn't pull away. Together, they recite the words a few more times until Jessica feels like she can breathe again.

[ariannadi]

As Luck Would Have It (1/5)

My take on a post-Revelation story, with lots of feels, fluff, and angst >:D 

Leokamu, Leorrin, or whatever, if that wasn’t obvious enough lol xP (Can also be read on Ao3, but thanks to tumblr’s stupid tagging system it will be in the source link on this post. I’ve also put the link at the end of this post.)

“So… what are you planning to do now, Leo?” The question had been simple enough, but it left the prince at a blank. Peace had been acquired between Hoshido and Nohr, the true threat between the two countries finally at an end, and with that peace came drastic changes on both sides.

Ryoma, now king of his country, had taken Camilla as his queen during the war, their son Shiro barely a year old at this point. In the land of dusk, Xander and Hinoka had happily settled as king and queen, their own son Siegbert only a few months younger than his cousin but almost nearly as rambunctious.

Prince Takumi and his wife Oboro had restored her family’s kimono shop to its former glory, all the while seeing to the restoration efforts present throughout Hoshido and sitting in for Ryoma and Camilla when they were away from the country. Princess Sakura and her husband Kaden, wanting to assist their homeland in their own way, had traveled to almost all of the clinics and hospitals within Hoshido, tending to the wounded and sick.

Then there came the three remaining royals - four, if you counted Azura.

After the war, Kamui had become the queen of the now-restored Valla. Although she had insisted that Azura was the rightful heir to the throne and deserved to be its ruler, the songstress had politely rejected the notion, instead becoming Kamui’s personal advisor on everything regarding their homeland, now that they could speak freely on the topic. She, along with her husband, Kaze, chose to stay out of the limelight; but both were willing to help out with anything, should they be called to it.

Elise, not wanting to depart from Kamui’s side “ever again”, had also remained in Valla with her former sister, becoming sort of a beacon of hope and joy to the growing population there, something the kingdom truly needed. She and Odin, the latter having remained with his liege, had begun something of a courtship after the war, though both were far too immature to even consider the next step.

Leo, meanwhile, had come to a standstill in his life.

He hadn't needed to return to Nohr necessarily; war wasn’t on the horizon and Xander had a pretty firm grasp on everything at hand. He could travel to Hoshido if he wanted, being close friends with Takumi and all, but he reasoned he would simply feel out of place.

So, he had stayed in Valla. It was the most logical conclusion, after all, and had absolutely nothing to do with the young woman who sat on the throne.

“So… what are you planning to do now, Leo?” Camilla had asked him on one of her and their family’s (many) visits to the new kingdom, and he found that he really didn’t have an answer.

Well, he did, but he wasn’t about to go and voice it. Especially to someone like Camilla.

In the time during the war, he and Kamui had become inseparable, spending long nights reading together or discussing events that had occurred during the day. Before Leo could even fathom what was happening, her kind heart and quirky behavior had won him over completely. She was beautiful beyond belief and even the sound of her laugh lessened his burdens by a mile.

He had grown to care for her; not as a sister, but as a woman. And despite every objection that rose at the very notion of remaining with her, he couldn’t stay away.

“Well, to be honest, I was considering teaching lessons on war strategy here in Valla, seeing as Kamui learned so much back when I tutored her.” Leo finally replied, glancing up at his sister. “I haven’t run the idea by her yet, however.”

Camilla seemed quite pleased by the thought. “Oh, that sounds perfect for you! I’m sure the people here will benefit greatly from that talented brain of yours.”

It was something, at the very least. A footstep in the right direction.

“You? A Teacher?” Elise nearly guffawed, and Leo managed the deepest scowl possible.

He should’ve known his younger sister wouldn’t take the thought seriously, but Kamui, blessed Kamui, had the complete opposite reaction.

“Now, Elise,” she tutted at the girl, “Leo did wonders in improving my tactical skills during the war. I think he would do great in tutoring others, should they wish to learn.”

Elise shrugged, her mouth going slightly sideways. “If you say so, Big Sister. So long as he doesn’t lose that temper of his.”

“You honestly think I’d be so incompetent?” Leo asked, and Elise shrugged again.

“Perhaps you could even attend such lessons, Elise,” Kamui suggested. “You did mention wanting to understand battle formations better a while back.”

“Yeah, I could sit in on a few, I guess,” the girl said in what sounded like surrender, which, where Kamui was involved, wasn’t out of the question. She looked over her shoulder toward the exit to the library, then announced, “I’m gonna go find Odin; he said something about wanting to tell me a story about time travel or the like. See you both later.” And with that, the youngest Nohrian princess bounced away, leaving Leo and Kamui alone.

“Thanks for defending me,” Leo said sheepishly once the space was silent. Kamui turned to him, offering him a little smile.

“You did so all the time back in Nohr for my sake, I felt I could step in for once,” she explained, crossing her arms and wandering to the ornate window at the far end of the room. Leo took a moment to observe her, the way the sunlight practically reflected off her silvery hair, but a moment was all he allowed.

“Something the matter?” he asked as he moved to her side, and Kamui shrugged.

“Ryoma and Xander mentioned wanting to speak with me after dinner this evening. I can only assume it’s in relation to foreign matters, but…”

“But?” Leo pressed. Kamui sighed and turned to face him. Her face was distraught, an expression the prince was not expecting to see.

“I… Camilla and Ryoma were speaking in their chambers the other night, and I happened to overhear them as I passed by. Camilla was entirely upset, and Ryoma was comforting her as best he could, but reasserting his stance all the same.”

“What did he say to her?” Leo questioned, a sinking feeling starting to form in the pit of his stomach. Kamui looked him directly in the eyes, the vibrant red of her irises glistening with moisture.

“Valla will eventually require a king.”

Try as he might, Leo couldn’t help but glare at the two kings sitting on opposite sides of the dining table, conversing like they’d been friends for years. He wanted to demand why they thought it so necessary to leave Kamui so distressed, but like always he simply held his tongue.

A king. He knew the matter would come up eventually; Kamui was queen to Valla and as such would require ties to the surrounding lands - not to mention an heir to secure her lineage. Leo just hadn’t assumed it would be so soon.

No wonder Camilla had been so upset. The mere thought of seeing her on the arm of some… deplorable left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Leo, you’ve been scraping at nothing for the last two minutes and my ears are starting to bleed,” Elise hissed at him from her seat across the way, and only then did the prince notice the lines his knife had left in the delicate china in front of him.

He set his silverware down, crossing his arms instead. “Apologies,” he muttered, not sounding sincere in the slightest. Elise just rolled her eyes, going back to eating the tart currently sitting on her own plate. Leo hadn’t even touched the dessert platter once it was passed around, and even now the minimal dinner he had ingested sat like a brick in his gut.

“Kamui,” Xander suddenly addressed the girl sitting at the head of the table, and rose from his spot, “Your brother and I wish to speak with you, in private.” Leo felt a chill creep down his spine, and quickly found himself rising, as well. All eyes flew to him, but he simply cleared his throat.

“If I may attend this meeting as well, brother,” he requested, and Xander quirked a brow.

“Surely Leo can be present,” Kamui seconded. “He’s been my right hand up until this point, after all.” Both Ryoma and Xander eyed one another, but acquiesced the request, following Kamui and Leo out of the dining hall and into the queen’s study.

“Sister,” Ryoma began once the doors were closed, already looking uncomfortable. “It should be no surprise that this matter come to attention, but we both felt it plausible to discuss everything now rather than later.”

“And, that we want you to understand that this is only with your best interest in mind,” Xander followed, staring at the floor.

“Brothers, please,” Kamui stepped in, holding up her hands. I already know what it is you wish to address.”

“You do?” the kings sputtered at the same time, and Leo would’ve smirked at their shared dumbfoundedness had he not wanted to beat some sense into them both.

“Yes,” Kamui answered, chewing at her lip. “It’s about my… position as a single ruler, yes?”

Both Ryoma and Xander seemed to deflate, if only slightly. Both returned to their full height but a moment after, appearing steadfast once again.

“Kamui, we understand this is the last thing you wish to think about, but the problem still stands. Valla is a decrepit kingdom in need of alliances, and Nohr and Hoshido’s affiliations can only go so far. Without a solid tie to another foreign body, your kingdom will not thrive.” Xander explained, his brow pinched in worry. Only then did Leo understand that his elder brother was just as uneasy with the idea of marrying Kamui off to some stranger in another land.

“I know,” the queen quietly replied, fiddling with a loose string on her sleeve. “More than anything I wish to see the people of this kingdom whole again, and if my marrying someone can secure that desire, then so be it.”

“Kamui,” Leo’s voice cracked, her words piercing his heart like a knife. He understood the girl had a widespread reputation for her selflessness, but for this?

“I’m glad you understand, dearest sister,” Ryoma said with a smile. “Already you have proven to be a ruler of worth. It makes me proud to witness such firsthand.”

“I, as well,” Xander affirmed, nodding slightly. “As I’m sure you’re already aware, the best means of going about this would be to host a gala of some kind, allowing any interested suitors a chance to travel here and interact with you personally. I’ll see to it that Camilla and Elise start arranging such; they’ve always been expert in such matters.”

“Of course. Thank you, Xander. Ryoma.” Kamui replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take part in some quiet reading before bed.”

“Of course, sister,” Ryoma agreed, moving to take his leave. Xander followed suit, and then it was just Leo and Kamui present once again.

“Kamui,” Leo repeated, his voice shaky. “Please tell me you aren’t actually considering this.”

The girl let out a halfhearted laugh, her eyes falling shut as she shook her head. “What choice do I have, Leo? They’re completely correct in their argument, and I can’t be selfish in a time like this.”

“I can’t recall a single time you ever were,” Leo stressed, stepping closer to her. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your happiness for anything.”

The young queen looked visibly touched, and Leo’s breath hitched when she reached for his hands, lacing their fingers together. Her skin was like a furnace in comparison to the chilly air of the study, and just the mere brush of her fingers against his offered him a sense of comfort.

“You’re so sweet, Leo,” Kamui murmured, her rosy lips turned upward in a sincere smile. “But this is my legacy, and that won’t change. I understand the consequences, but… for the sake of these people, my people, I must do what is necessary.”

“Kamui…” Leo swallowed thickly, his jaw tight. It was then that the doors to the study flew open and Elise bounded in, Camilla following close behind with Shiro on her hip. Kamui released Leo’s hands, turning to acknowledge the unexpected guests.

Already, the prince missed her tender warmth.

“Ah, here you are, darling,” their elder sister said with what looked to be a forced smile. “Xander said we would find you here, I hope you don’t mind the interruption.”

“Not at all, Camilla,” Kamui replied, managing a smile herself. Elise skipped to the queen’s side and clasped her hands in her own, swinging them back and forth with a bubbly giggle.

“Xander says you’re looking to get married, Big Sister, and he wants Camilla and I to help you out!” the girl chirped in excitement. “Oh, this is gonna be so fun! You’ve never been to a betrothal ball before, have you? We’re gonna arrange the best one ever for you, I promise!”

Kamui laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm, but even in the dim light of the study, Leo could make out the sadness and worry behind her eyes.

Thanks so much for reading! Or, if you are looking for the Ao3 link, it’s right here :D

Likes, reblogs, anything, are always loved and appreciated!!

[enbyleighlines]

Favorite Female Characters Meme

I was tagged by @pyropelove413

Rules: list ten of your favorite female characters from different fandoms, then tag ten people!

1. Terezi Pyrope from Homestuck

I have so much love for this dragon lawyer lady. I developed depression around the same time as she did, on the meteor, and her experience was a huge source of comfort for me. Plus, I just enjoy seeing a girl character who is shown as smart and confident and deeply flawed, but still a hero, rather than a villain or plucky love interest.

2. Midna from Legend of Zelda

I very much adore her for similar reasons. I just really like girls with shit-eating grins, fuzzy codes of ethics, and sharp tongues, I suppose. Plus, I love how Midna went from being chiefly concerned with her own kingdom, to being terribly emotionally attached to Zelda and Link. Midna is the embodiment of that meme: “You have befriended X. X will now die for you.”

3. Hiroko Katsuki from Yuri!!! On Ice

Hiroko wins the award for best anime mother, hands down. She is such a bright, cheerful woman, but my favorite thing about her is how strongly she supports her son. I also love that, when a decorated five gold medalist shows up at her inn, she immediately starts calling him by the cutesy nickname Vicchan. For her, it doesn’t matter that Viktor is the most famous male ice skater in the world. His name is Vicchan now.

4. Ange from Princess Principal

Also called “Princess” by everyone in the show, Ange is a spectacular character who has had it hard since day one. Born in poverty, and then inexplicably being mistaken for the true princess, Ange has to teach herself to read, write, play the piano, along with many, many other skills a royal is expected to have. At first it was just out of neccesity, but later Ange does it because she wants to fix the broken kingdom. Ange’s brilliance and work ethic are only half of her greatness, though. Ange is perpetually kinder and more compassionate than all the other characters, making her the heart as well as the brains of the group.

5. Pearl from Steven Universe

Deeply and hilariously flawed, I can emphasize a lot with Pearl. Her need to be in control, her pride, and her air of superiority are all traits that are generally demonized in female characters. But while Pearl is prone to doing some pretty bad stuff, she never stops being relatable or lovable. I always want the best for her, and I love watching her grow and learn to deal with her grief in healthier ways.

6. Sakura from Fire Emblem: Fates

I know it’s bad to pick favorites, but Sakura is my favorite of all of Corrin’s nine siblings. Not only is she a powerhouse after her class upgrade, she is a sweet, compassionate girl who struggles with social anxiety. It is always so rewarding to see her stepping out of her shell. Her support conversations are always a delight to read, and honestly, I hardly ever go into battle without her. (Also I paired her with Kaden, and her relationship to her daughter Selkie is absolutely too adorable.)

7. Rachel Amber from Life is Strange: Before the Storm

Honestly, I could put any female character from this game on this list. Kate, Max, Chloe, Steph, even Victoria... they are all precious to me. But Rachel is a special girl. She reminds me of a friend I used to have. Rachel is chaos incarnate, always restless, always striving for her best, always longing for adventure. There is something deeply human in Rachel’s insatiable need for something, anything, beyond the ordinary and familiar. She is the type of girl you can love from afar, but who will never belong to any one place or person, and so you have to appreciate every second she allows you entrance to her heart. I’m so excited to see where her story goes.

8. Valencia Maria Perez from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

I’ve definitely ranted about this lovely lady before, but I will happily do so again. Valencia is first portrayed as the mean girl, the Regina George of the show. She is cold and self-centered, humorless and deeply distrustful of other women. However, the show makes it impossible for the viewer to hate her — Valencia is just too sympathetic. You can’t help but feel for her, when Rebecca tries repeatedly (and eventually succeeds) to steal her boyfriend from her. Even after Rebecca repeatedly sabetages her life, Valencia keeps returning to Rebecca, and even helps Rebecca plan her wedding to her own ex-boyfriend.

9. Joan Watson from Elementary

I absolutely love this show for many, many reasons, and Joan is at least three of those. Like most Watson’s, she is meant to be the heart to Sherlock’s brains. And Joan is definitely that: she is shown doing charity work, especially with people who are homeless and/or suffering from mental illness and/or drug abuse. But just because Joan is a kind character doesn’t mean she isn’t smart. Her brilliance is second only to Sherlock’s, and that’s probably only due to the fact that he’s been a detective longer than her. Joan is wonderfully written, a character that you can always rely on to be the voice of reason. She is Sherlock’s most treasured person in the world for a reason.

10. Peggy Carter from the Marvel Universe

Peggy deserves more than she got. She really was the best written female character in any Marvel movie. Her tenacity, wit, and dedication to justice made her my favorite superhero, even though she didn’t even have any special powers. Even with her flaws, Peggy never stopped being lovable. She was the best thing to happen to the Marvel universe, and I will never stop being bitter over the Agent Carter tv series being cancelled.

Thank you Rez for tagging me! That was fun

I tag @kiwisoap @abstracttheworld @quillyfied @amateur-autist @zv3 @jeremytheblack @gamzeeshumanbonebulge @katolilly @glocktor @thingsandstuffbutmostlystuff

[xtoxicblueberry]

((not my art, that was done by the wonderful, and lovely @ronyascribbles)

“ I will help you if so desired, if you need my staff or bow just call me. ”

Name: Kari Age: 20-24 Gender: Female Nationality: Nohrian Race: Human Birthday: 08/02

Height: 5'4" (162.56 cm ) Eye color: Apple green Hair color: Light blue Hair style: Typically up, mainly in twin tails. She will wear it in a bun if she’s either in the bath house or its just a super hot day. Though she will wear it down at times. Clothing style: Other then her adventure outfit that she wears to battle; she typically wears comfy clothes. Tank tops and short shorts or pants, depending on the weather. Her clothes are typically black.

Hobies: walking Around, exploring, window shopping. Likes: Talking to people she gets along with, playing with Animals, looking at things she finds interesting, almost all things sweet, ice coffee, relaxing, enjoying nature, making up stories about her scars and seeing how far she can go and what people would believe, stimulating conversation, storms, and rainy weather. Dislikes: Being around so many people, being touched in any way, by a person, unless she is very close with said person, talking to someone she just met, messy things, getting dirty, chocolate flavored things.

Personal Skill: Vigilante - Grants +20 Hit/Str/Crit if attacking a unit that has attacked another unit without a weapon equipped.

Affiliation: None (Recruitable in Birthright, Conquest, and Revelation. )

Roster: A traveling young woman without a set destination. Cold and distant, she is hard to befriend. If you gain her trust she will become a very loyal and trust worthy friend. Most likely to comfort others in distress. Born August 2nd.

History: Kari was born a high class Noble, her father was a leader of one of the higher up fractions from one of the many armies under King Garon, her father was a great Knight and her birth mother was a troubadour. They met in the army. Shortly after Kari’s birth, the mother was killed on the battle field. Her Father developed the habit to get Kari any and everything she could ever want; going above and beyond what she would ask for. He became doting and spoiled her. Though she didn’t like it, her father had her take many lessons, some consist of Piano, violin, dance, chess, singing, stiching and anything else that he felt a proper lady should know how to do. To try and make sure the loss of her mother didn’t affect her to much, he remarried. The woman had the wicked step mom Syndrome, she never wanted children. She would act innocent and kind in front of Kari’s father, but once he wasn’t there she would be mean and horrid. She was a pure Noble woman, both her parents came from money, she never worked a day in her life. She was a floozy and only looked for money in men. She cared more about her social status and looks above all else. She would never allowed Kari to call her “mother” or “mom” though she was in her life for many years. Kari was mainly raised by butlers and maids, due to the demanding hours of her fathers job. This caused her to say humble and kind. The maids and Butler’s tought her many life skills, such as cooking and proper cleaning techniques. she would often help them out with chorus, for fun. When she was still young, but old enough to take care of her self, her father died in battle. Leaving her with the step mom whom really didn’t want anything to do with her. One night, she slipped poison into Kari’s food, though an elderly maid whom took care of Kari since she was born stopped it from ever reaching her. Thus as punishment, the woman made the maid eat the food, losing the closest thing to a mother she had left. After Kari’s father passed, her step mom would bring home a different man every night. One night, the man she took home turned out to be a thief. Him and his small gange turned over the house killing all who lived there. With the help of some maids and Butler’s, Kari managed to stay hidden for a long time, but once he found her he tried to end her life. Though he failed, the man did however leave a large scar going down the left side of her face and partly her neck causing her to have nerve damage on most her face and lose eyesight in that eye. Once she was able to move around once more, she went to an old friend of her fathers. He managed to save her eye. Once he fixed her, and she was fully healed, she left. She now wonders around, she does what she needs to do to survive.

RECRUITMENT

Birthright Recruitment Recruited In: Chapter 12: Dark Reunion Recruitment: The Avatar must talk to her. Starting Class: Adventurer Starting Level: 16 Motivations for joining the Avatar: She wants to help end the war.

Conquest Recruitment Recruited In: Chapter 14: Voice of Paradise Recruitment: The Avatar must talk to her. Starting Class: Adventurer Starting Level: 16 Motivations for joining the Avatar: She wants to help end the War.

Revelation Recruitment Recruited In: Chapter 13: A lost Peace Recruitment: The Avatar must talk to her. Starting Class: Adventurer Starting Level: 16 Motivations for joining the Avatar: She wants to help end the war.

UNIT STATS

Asset: Speed Flaw: Resistance Skill(s): Point Blank, Luna, Resistance +2, Locktouch, Pass Weapon(s): Killer bow, Recover, Mend Class Sets: Adventurer                   Heart Seal > Maid

SUPPORTS

Romance Supports: Corrin (M), Jakob, Kaze, Saizo, Subaki, Silas, Xander, Azama, Hayato, Kaden, Hinata, Ryoma, Takumi, Arthur, Keaton, Odin, Leo, Laslow, Benny, Shura, Niles.

Other Supports: Corrin (F), Felicia, Rinkah, Orochi, Setsuna, Mozu, Oboro, Kagera, Nyx, Beruka, Peri, Charlotte, Selena, Asugi, Dwyer, Sigure, Sophie, Shiro, Kiragi, Selki, Mitama, Rhajat, Siegbert, Forrest, Ignatius, Velouria, Soleil, Nina.

Ideal (‘Canon’) Spouse: Keaton or Shura

QUOTES

Event Tile: “ Hum? What’s this? ” (item) “ No such thing as to much practice.. ” (exp) “ Hmm.. I feel I’m improving.. ” (weapon proficiency)

Level Up: “ Wow! I impress myself sometimes! ” (6+) “ There’s always room for improvement.  ” (4-5) “ Do I disappoint you? ” (2-3) “ Tch, that’s it?  ” (0-1) “ forgive me! ” (0-1, most skills capped)

Class Change: “ This is new.. ”

Support: “ I got your back! ” “ I’ll help you! ” “ don’t worry I got you! ” ” I’ll keep you safe! ” “ I’m here for you! ” “ Who’s the enemy here? Hehee kidding~” “ Don’t back down! ”

Attack Stance: “ Let me have a go! ” “ I’ll take a shot! ” “ My turn! ” “ Time to strike! ”

Guard Stance: “ Time and place! ” “ I thought I was the blind one! ” “ I won’t let them hurt you! ”

Critical / Skill: “ I have no mercy for scum like you. ” “ I’ll make you pay! ” “ I won’t hold back! ” “ I’ll shoot you down! ”

Defeated Enemy: “ On to the next. ” “ To easy. ” “ I suppose that was amusing. ”

Partner Defeated Enemy: “ Nice shot! ” “ I missed that do it again! ” “ killer shot! Hehe. ”

When Healed: “ This is a nice change of pace. ” “ Thanks! ” “ Who are you again? Kidding~”

Defeated by Enemy: “ I-I didn’t see you coming.. ”

Death Quote: “ This is it..  Mother.. Father.. I’ll.. See you Soon.. “

Retreat Quote: “ Ugh! It’s to blurry, I can’t tell who is who! I have to fall back! I don’t want to hurt an ally”

DLC Battle Quotes: Boo Camp “ You’re the monsters everyone’s talking about? You aren’t so scary.. I’ll show you true horror! ” Museum Melee “ Ooo ~ I see something shiny ~ that’s mine now hehee” Ghostly Gold “ Huh… Ghosts… Who would have though.. All well, time to die again~” Anna on the run “ I know my eyesight isn’t the best.. But I think I’m seeing double.. ”

Confession Quote: “ I don’t need my sight to see how much you mean to me. You have my heart now and forever…. (I hope you know what you’re getting in to. Hehee)”

MY CASTLE QUOTES

Castle Grounds Alone - ” Talk about a sugar rush! “ (surge) - ” I snuck in some training, I hope it paid off. “ (weapon proficiency) - ” This is NOT where this belongs, who left it here? “ (item) - ” What do you think will look good on me? “ (accessory)   - ” Wow! Thank you! “ (accessory given)   - ” So pretty! “ (accessory given)   - ” Is.. This a joke? “ (accessory given, not liked)   - ” Hehe thanks shall I try it on now? “ (Bath Towel given)   - ” Hehee thank you, this means a lot to me. “ (Friendship birthday present)   - ” Ahh hehee you know me so well ~ I love this so much! I’ll cherish it always. “ (Lover birthday present) - ” Hmm? Did you need something? “ (idle) - ” W-what? No I was not just dancing! “ (idle) - ” La laa la ~ W-whaa!! H-how long have you been there?! “ (idle) - ” Is someone there? Hehe ~ I’m kidding! I see you just fine. “ (idle) - ” Wow aren’t you cute ~ don’t I know you from somewhere? Hehe “ (idle, married) - “oh? A new face I see, let me know if you need anything. ” (visiting another castle)

Asking - Normal “ What has you so happy? Did something good happen? ” (happy) “ What do you think your future holds for you? ” (dreams) “ I’ll watch your backside- I mean back in the next battle, sound good? ” (team up) “ Indulge me in my curiosity… How do you spend your down time? ” (free time)

Replying - Normal “ I love the feeling I get when I finish cleaning. ” (happy) “ I hope to find true happiness one day. ” (dreams) “ Alright, no promises I won’t mistake you for the enemy ~ I’m kidding,  I’m kidding! ” (team up) “ I often walk beyond the camp boarders, or wonder around the forest. ” (free time)

Private Quarters Friendship “ You called me for something? ” (invite) “ I baked some cookies, want one? No I didn’t put salt instead of sugar in them this time. ” (invite) “ Hehee now this will be fun ~ ” (invite, MU is married)

Lovers “ Hey! I finished cleaning up, don’t mess it up. ” (greeting) “ I missed you! Don’t leave me again.. ” (greeting) “ I-I’ve been practicing my violin.. Would you mind listening? ” (greeting) “ Hehee that’s the best sight to wake up to. ” (awakening, good) “ Do that again and you will regret it.. ” (awakening, bad) “ My hair is such a pain to dry.. ” (greeting, cool down) “ Hehee thanks that felt nice ~ your turn now ~ ” (cooling down successful) “ Oh my! How beautiful! Thank you! ” (flowers)

Bonding “ If that’s all you need, mind if I go? ” (friendship bonding) “ It was a pleasure spending this time with you. Invite me again some time. ” (friendship bonding) “ I’m glad we can spend this time together..   These are the happiest moments of my day. ” (lover bonding) “ I just want to hold you in my arms and never let go.. Promise you won’t leave me.. ” (lover bonding) “ Come here for a moment, Hehee I’m not going to bit you… (See, I told you I wouldn’t bite you, This time. Hehe) ” (kiss)

Extras/little quirks: She won’t dule someone unless there is a wager of some sort; even if she manages to win she will let the other party have their winnings as well. After her father passed away she continues to practice all the things he wanted her to learn when ever she can. Typically after doing one of them she would cry a little and say softly to her self,  “are you proud papa? ” or “am I improving father? ” she can be fairly vain when it comes to her hair, she takes pride in its soft silky texture. When she’s in deep thought she will twirl the ends of her hair. Because of the damage to her left side of her face, she can no longer produce tears from that eye. The left eye is also significantly lighter in color, and has a small thin line down it from where it was cut. Though she hates chocolate flavored things she loves normal chocolate. If she eats anything remotely spicy she turns red and gets sick, if it’s really spicy she will pass out. She is very flexible and uses it to an advantage in hand to hand fighting.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Trust and Understanding || Ariana & Orion

TIMING: Saturday (10/31) Afternoon PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After Rio saves the day during the full moon, Ariana brings over entirely too much food as a thank you and explains what happened CONTENT: Mentions of domestic abuse

The morning after the first night of the full moon had left Ariana with a new sense of determination that had been rapidly fading as she resigned herself to her fate. With her promise fulfilled, she’d quickly discovered she was able to talk about everything which meant she was one step closer to making sure Lydia never hurt anyone again. A big part of why she was able to get out of the Common without killing anyone was Rio. She’d been seriously impressed with the way he stepped up and even delivered one hell of a punch. Her face was still throbbing despite the fact Athena had insisted she kept ice on it for far longer than was comfortable, but that didn’t take away from the fact he put his full force into that punch and saved Kaden. In light of this, she’d brought some homemade mac and cheese and some cheesecake that Athena had helped her make. She owed him a thank you and some sort of explanation though she knew he wouldn’t like their solution. She’d pulled into the driveway and carefully stacked Tupperware containers up. She gave the door a light kick as a knock and waited for Rio to answer.

It had been a long month. Orion felt like he was constantly tired. From too many near death experiences and too many actual deaths. But the worst by far had probably been the recent full moon. Ariana’s transformation had been too close of a call. They had come far too close to losing a life that night. Whether it was the innocent bystander, Rio or Kaden or even Ariana herself. None of their lives were expendable to Rio, but trying to figure out how to keep everyone safe had been near impossible without Kaden and a couple complete strokes of luck. Not to mention he hadn’t seen Ariana or talked to her since the incident. At least until he heard a car pulling into the driveway and leaned back in his desk chair to peer out of the window and spot Ariana walking towards the door. His heart raced immediately, and Rio jumped from his chair to pull a hoodie over top of his short sleeve shirt and jog down the steps, flinging the door open seconds after he heard the single knock against his door. Seeing her in person made his fingers flex on reflex and he was reminded that his knuckles were still sore from splitting them open while punching her. “Hey!” He tried, maybe a bit overenthusiastically, “You’re okay.” 

Ariana nodded as Rio spoke and the words seemed to resonate in her. She was okay. She was alive and ready to fight another day. Despite the dread, the full moon had been meant with this month, it still freed her in its way. There was no need to keep Lydia’s secrets anymore and this meant she stood a chance at making sure she never did this to anyone else ever again. It also meant she could give Rio the explanation he deserved. Though she had wanted nothing more than for him to leave her and Kaden be that night, he stayed. He stayed and he proved himself far tougher and smarter in the face of danger than she could have hoped. He was so good and was so concerned with making sure both she and Kaden lived to see another day. He was such a dear friend and if there wasn’t a whole stack of plastic containers in her arms, she’d want to hug him right then and there. “Thanks to you,” she said with a soft smile as she walked in the door, “You were kind of amazing, you know that?” She set a variety of contains down on the counter-- one with venison stew, one with turkey chili, and one with cheesecake that Athena had made. “So this is for you, there’s plenty to share with Winston and Ricky, too if you’d like. I figured-- You really came through for me and Kaden last night. I wanted to do something nice for you. Athena helped.” She leaned against the counter and with a small smirk added, “You can throw one hell of a punch. It was awesome.” There was a small swell of pride in her at seeing Rio come into his own more and more. 

Never one to accept compliments easily, Orion shrugged at Ariana’s compliments and began scratching at his neck nervously. “Nah. I mean, I was just lucky that I ended up there. Kaden’s the one that actually got you into the woods.” Rio had spent so long wanting a night like that to happen that now that it had, Rio didn’t exactly know how to process it. All he had wanted was to keep people safe. Trying to help organize the containers of food that Ariana had brought with her, Rio suddenly felt a tightening in his chest. He didn’t want to cry. That definitely hadn’t been on his to-do list today. “Wow. Thank you. And uh- thank my sister for me too, okay? Does she know about… whatever happened?” What would Athena think about Rio’s actions from the full moon? Would she be impressed at what he had done, or embarrassed? Up until Athena met Ariana, Rio knew exactly how Athena would have handled the situation. If Rio had suggested anything else, she would have berated him before finishing the job herself. Now… well now nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Of course, Ariana would remember the punch. “Oh my god,” Rio sighed, hiding his face in the palms of his hands and immediately blushing, “I can’t believe that I actually punched you. I’m so sorry!”

“It wasn’t just luck,” Ariana insisted, “I’m not sure where the smoke came from, but you were prepared and had an idea that worked. Give yourself some credit.” That preparation and quick thinking had been exactly what saved Kaden’s life. She would admit, it wasn’t something she quite thought Rio capable of before which was part of what made her so proud. She knew he hated what he was and there was something about seeing him come more into his own with what being a hunter could mean for him gave her hope in the midst of everything else. While Rio organized the food, she placed the cheesecake in the fridge and mused, “You could always thank her yourself. I know she’d love to hear from you.” She stood back up and took her place back leaning on the counter. She nodded, “She does. She knows everything. Even if she worries about you, I think she’s glad you were able to help without-- Well, you know.” There was no denying she was grateful for the same thing. That she lived to fight another day. That she got to come home to waffles in the morning and find that renewed sense of purpose that had been taken from her when the promise was first made. Rio had helped her gain some of that back. “Oh my god, don’t be sorry. One, it was awesome. Two, it’s not your fault I was promise bound to be out there in the first place.” 

“Smoke bomb.” Orion shrugged, answering the question that Ariana had not officially asked, “I read about them in one of my books. It’s like sensory overload for werewolves, effects sight, smell and hearing all at once.” The logic made sense, though Rio hadn’t been sure that he couldn’t actually get the thing to work in practice. The full moon had been a forced test run. One that had very luckily played out in the three’s favor. “But yeah, I mean… sure. I’ll try to cut myself some slack.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Ariana slide the cheesecake onto a shelf in the fridge. Athena had always enjoyed baking. One of the many hobbies that Athena had been encouraged to do, along with sports. It had always been a sullen reminder that she had been able to get away with whatever she wanted. She was the golden child after all. She could spend her time baking and playing soccer because it never affected her training. On the other hand, anything Rio tried to do in his spare time had been deemed a distraction. Not that any of that mattered anymore. “Yeah, I know I need to talk to her. I just don’t know what to say yet.” Rio had no intentions of getting too caught up in his family’s history. “I still can’t believe I actually just… punched you. Why was that the first idea that came into my head?” Clearly, he had been friends with people like Blanche, Ariana and Adam for far too long. Despite the guilt, he found himself laughing with Ariana until the mention of a promise binding made the mood more somber. “From that Fae you told me about? Why would they promise bind you to be at the commons?”

“Smoke bomb, that makes sense. It definitely worked. Had a very big wolfy what the fuck moment,” Ariana responded with a proud smile on her face. This was a far cry from the Rio who only a month or so ago spoke of how he hated himself because of what he was. He was growing and defining what being a hunter meant for him. It gave her hope that the world she wanted maybe wasn’t that far-fetched. Celeste wasn’t just some anomaly. Things could be better and it started with them. “That was very clever. I’m glad you’ve been reading up on that stuff. This is totally cheesy, but I’m proud of you. Learning to keep people safe while doing no harm, you’re making what you were born with your own.” The world was no doubt a better place with both of them in it and she had an amused grin on her face as she spoke that softened at the mention of needing time. “I get that. I do. Sometimes you just have to rip the bandaid off, though. Avoiding things doesn’t make them any easier. Either way, you’re both coming to the Friendsgiving I’m throwing.” It was her first holiday season without Celeste and the thought of spending it alone bummed her out entirely too much. Still, laughter rang through the kitchen as she gave Rio a nudge, “Because I turned Kaden into a werewolf chew toy. Punching me was an effective way to get me off of him. It saved his life and well-- It saved me, too. I don’t think I’d-- Kaden’s important to me. I’d be pretty fucking wrecked if I killed him.” For the moment, it was best no to delve into the details of Lydia too much. At least when it came to giving away her identity. She could tell him some of what happened though. She sighed, “Yeah, same fae. She’s kind of terrible. Really terrible actually. Like keeps humans to feed from in her basement and tortures them kind of terrible. I tried rescuing one of them, he was my friend. It didn’t--” Her gaze went down to her feet. There was still a small twinge of shame and guilt that came with speaking of how she failed Sammy. 

Admittedly, maybe Orion was a tiny bit proud of himself. That pride was overpowered by the feeling of embarrassment he felt from receiving any compliments from Ariana or Kaden. “Oh god. Stop making me blush, you can’t just tell me that you’re proud of me.” He wanted to hide his face behind something. He decided to just focus intently on reading the label of anything he could find in the kitchen. Was Ariana right? Was this how Rio was reclaiming his hunter heritage? The thought sounded idealistic. He had simply been able to help out this time. Even the weakest links get lucky every now again. Isn’t that what Rio had always been? The epitome of a hunter that was the weakest link? “Point taken.” Rio agreed with Ariana’s words about his sister. He just hadn’t quite decided what relationship he wanted to have with his sister, if he wanted one at all. He had no idea how Kaden and Ariana had ended up so close considering both of their opinions about the species of the other. Ariana wasn’t particularly anti-hunter. Athena, Rio and Celeste had been proof enough of that. But that didn’t mean she blindly trusted them. “Is that the friend of yours that… uh… y’know. You told me a few weeks ago that one of your friends died.” The thought bit at Rio’s chest and a pit formed in his stomach. Why would the Fae do something like that? “Why would they bind you to do that? What do they gain from it?”

Ariana simply shook her head. One of these days Rio was going to have to start believing her when she spoke positively of him. Maybe not today, but it wouldn’t stop her from continuing to try anyway. “I’m your friend. When you do an awesome thing that shows some personal growth, I’m going to be proud of you and I’m going to say it. I’d say take it or leave it, but you’re kind of stuck with me.” She stuck her tongue out playfully and began pulling out some pans to reheat some of the food. She’d used the kitchen here enough times to know exactly where everything was. It was funny how her whole life, she longed to be in one place and be able to call it home. Now that she’d found it, there were so many places here she got to call home. Before Rio had even moved in, Ricky and Winston had stressed she was always welcome here and she found it easy to be comfortable. It seemed since moving here, Rio did as well and it really showed in the way he carried himself, even if he still wasn’t the best at taking compliments. She put some chilli on the stovetop and decided she could drop the subject of Athena for now. There was only so long they could go without talking. Especially considering she’d always want them both there for important moments. She stirred it around in the pot and let out a sigh. Rio seemed so confused as to why Lydia would do something like that. There was no simple answer to that. “Yeah, it’s the same friend. His name was Sammy, but I always called him Ace. He-- I tried to save him from her. She didn’t like that, so I had to be punished, I guess. She doesn’t see humans as people, Rio. Which is totally fucked. I just don’t know how to come to terms with that. That she’ll keep hurting people. Collecting them in her basement and profiting off their work all while slowly killing them. I don’t think I can just let it go.” And she wouldn’t. Somehow, she didn’t think Rio wanted to be part of the solution to that. 

“Yeah. I’ve noticed. I can’t escape the compliments around you, clearly.” Orion faked a sigh, but the smile gave his joke away. There was a level of comfort that Rio felt around Ariana that he had troubles building with others. It was a short list, made up of her, Rio’s roommates and then others that were close to him like Blanche and even Connor. Talking to her just felt easy. Even as Ariana expertly navigated the kitchen, proving that she had probably cooked in here more than Rio had, it just felt natural as the two talked. He was glad to know that the full moon hadn’t changed anything of that. If someone had died that night, this conversation might have been much different. “I’m really sorry to hear that.” Rio couldn’t imagine that loss. Ariana how dangerous the Fae was and still tried to help her friend. Rio just wished she had been able to. “That’s… awful.” Rio hugged his arms around himself tightly and stared at the floor as he processed, “She wanted you to hurt somebody. Or get hurt in the process.” The process made Rio shutter, but so did the idea of purposefully hunting her down. “What do you even do about-” Rio cut himself off. It was a stupid question and he had known it. He swallowed hard and tried not to think too deeply about what was being implied. “She sounds dangerous. And strong. Stopping her doesn’t sound easy.”

“Nope,” Ariana retorted with a satisfied grin. There was something about being here that brought her a sense of ease, even in the midst of everything. Where Lydia left her feeling hopeless and like maybe her idea of trying to create some sort of middle ground could never happen, Rio gave her hope. He was so good. Purely and wholly, even more so than she was. It made her feel inclined to protect him, but as he was showing, maybe he didn’t need that. After all, he had been the one to show up and save the day. She owed him honesty though she knew he wouldn’t like what had to be done. There was no changing Lydia. No making her realize the error of her ways because she didn’t even see her hostages as people. “It is,” she said softly. There wasn’t any other way to put it and she occupied herself with watching the chilli as it began to simmer. No, she had to look at him. “She did. She wanted me to hurt people because she knew it would hurt me. Maybe she maybe even wanted me to see things her way or end up dead, I don’t really know. All I know is she’s cruel and dangerous and has no intention of being better.” Her features were a bit graver now as she answered him, “I don’t think you’re going to like the answer. I don’t like the answer, but Rio-- I tried. I tried to do this in a better way, I just.” She looked down at her hands in shame. She’d been so sure, but every so often, that doubt would creep in again. That doubt had to be squashed down or she’d risk getting Athena or Kaden killed. “It’s her or the people she hurts. As much as I hate it, I think maybe sometimes there isn’t a better way. The top priority will be getting the people she has locked up out safely which… We still need to come up with a plan.” She looked to him to gauge his reaction even though she wasn’t sure she’d like it. 

Orion didn’t even know how he was supposed to feel. He had spent most of his life absolutely sure that murder was unnecessary. That it was an evil as unforgivable as it was completely avoidable. There was always another option. Rio had seen it with his parents so many times growing up. Innocent people that didn’t deserve to die. The further that Rio got away from his parents, the closer he thought he would get to being a part of that reality he had wished so desperately for. It made it all the more ironic that his stance on it had slowly begun to shift and change the more time he spent away from his childhood home. Now, against everything in Rio’s mind screaming at him that there had to be another option, all he could bring himself to do was shake his head at Ariana and try to dismiss the worry that he knew she felt saying these things to him. “I get it.” He didn’t like the words anymore than she seemed to. For as much as this woman sounded like the same brand of evil that Rio had assigned to his parents, he still wished there were another alternative. But Rio knew these types were never served any real justice. He had seen it before. “I don’t like the answer. But I get it. If she keeps people locked up… well we’re going to have to get her away from them somehow.”

Neither of them liked this very much. Ariana knew she and Rio both wanted there to be a better way to handle these things. A kinder way. As it stood, for Lydia there simply wasn’t. There was no jail that could hold her for long. No way to force her to stop from doing what she was doing. There was no way in hell that she would promise to stop keeping humans as hostages. At the end of the day, it came down to Lydia or the people she held hostage. The answer seemed pretty clear when she looked at it like that. At least Rio could see where she was coming from and didn’t think she was bad. It seemed like they were both learning some things weren’t that black and white. “I’m not happy about the situation, but I’m glad you understand. If there was a better way, I’d be here for it.” If he had any brilliant ideas that would work, she’d love to hear them. As it stood, Lydia being out of the picture entirely was the only way to save her hostages. She absentmindedly turned the stove off and began putting chilli in some of the bowls with a sprinkle of cheddar cheese on top. A small task that took her away from some of the darker thoughts that threatened to spill into her head. She slid his bowl over to him and grabbed a seat at the table. “Yeah, I don’t like it either, but at the same time, I just can’t let those people keep being tortured. Not when I know and have the means to do something about it. We’re going to come up with a plan. Athena and Kaden are both helping because I’m clearly way out of here. In the meantime, if you have anything on fae promises in that library of yours, it would probably help with getting people out alive.” 

Not having all the right answers frustrated Orion. As much as he wanted to be the go to guy that had all the information in the world neatly organized and readily available to save the day. Once upon a time he thought he could be that for people with enough time devoted to the Scribrary. Yet, the longer he spent on these books the more complicated things seemed to get. He wished he had something else to give Ariana that could absolve them of the horrible things they had to do. He wished he could tell he had some grand idea to stop the Fae from hurting others peacefully. But knowledge only helped so much. Some people were just monsters, as much as Rio wanted to deny it. “Hmmm” Rio pondered as he began fixed his own bowl and joined Ariana at the table, “Fae aren’t my specialty. But I know that breaking a fae promise comes with extreme consequences. The more serious the promise, the more dangerous it is to break. Unless the fae absolves you from that promise.” Definitely not the words she probably wanted to hear, but as much as RIo would wrack his brain, no miracle deus ex machina plan would take shape. “I can look more. Maybe for now we can just take a break and try to enjoy the fact that we’re both alive and well enough to eat this chili.”

Even though Ariana was sure what had to be done, it didn’t make her feel any better about it. Getting rid of Lydia wouldn’t magically bring Sammy back somehow, but it was bigger than that. In a way, this was still for him, but it was also for everyone else Lydia hurt. For all the people she was still hurting now. It gave her the resolve she needed and she simply said, “Yeah, I guess we’ll have to figure that part out.” There was not a chance Lydia would release any of them from a promise. The chance to take a break and focus on just about anything else was welcome. She had owed Rio an explanation, but now that she was no longer under the restraints of Lydia’s promise, she could relax a little. “You’re right,” she said with a small smile creeping back on her face, “A break and chilli go well together. Maybe we could play a few games or something before I have to head out to the woods.” As she quickly discovered in their home months ago, there was nothing to take your mind off White Crest being White Crest like fun games with good friends.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Mime & Dine || Oscar, Regan & Kaden (ft. Rumplskuffs)

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s apartment PARTIES: @kadavernagh, @forfuchssake, and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Two hunters and a fae sit down for dinner

It was a lot slower going around the kitchen while he was still injured, but Kaden was determined to make this meal the best he possibly could. Not that he needed to impress anyone he was cooking for tonight, Regan and Oscar were both aware that he didn’t suck. No, the effort wasn’t out of pride so much as a means to keep his mind off of the situation at hand. His uncle was coming to dinner to meet his girlfriend. Which was weird enough as it was. Kaden had a girlfriend for one. Two, it was serious enough to bother meeting family. And three, Oscar was in the same town as him. These three things had never once happened in succession. So this was already strange. The fact that he was dating a fae and that his uncle was a hunter did nothing to simplify the matter. Lucky him. It meant he was making a three course meal because if he was cooking it meant he wasn’t panicking. At least that’s what he was telling himself.

Abel barked to alert him to the rap on the door and Kaden quickly put aside what he could, pulse pounding through him at the thought of what was next. “Necklace!” he called out to Regan as he went to get the door, just in case she didn’t already have it on or forgot or who knew. It was second nature to have her around without it on at this point. But the last thing he needed Oscar to see was the wings. He swallowed down the fear creeping up his throat and placed his slightly shaky palm to the doorknob, swinging it open. He’d chalk up the unsteadiness to his injury. Even if that wasn’t quite the reality of the situation. “Hey, come in. Still have a bit to finish up before we can eat,” he said to Oscar as he led him inside, Abel pushing past to greet the other man. “You already know Abel. And, uh, this is Regan.” He gestured back towards his girlfriend who seemed almost as nervous as he felt. Almost. “You, uh, should talk. Or something. While I--” A beeping started coming from the kitchen. “Soon, it’ll be done soon.” He ran off to the safety of the kitchen to finish off what was left of the meal. Putain, maybe he should have started prepping earlier, it was an idiotic idea to leave the hunter alone with a banshee. Kaden had a feeling he wouldn’t be eating a lot tonight. Not if his stomach kept churning like this.

“So you see,” Regan explained to Abel, as the two of them were sprawled out on the couch, “that’s why both humans and canines can get salmonellosis.” He seemed attentive, but the only response she was met with was panting. They could work on that. Then again, she was about ready to start panting, too -- the smells drifting over from the kitchen warmed her as they filled her up. Kaden wouldn’t tell her what he was making, wouldn’t even let her help, but Regan trusted that even in his injured state, he was still the best French cook in town. Plus, it was good for him to handle his stress in a healthy way. She wasn’t sure how to handle her own. Oscar meant so much to Kaden, was really all he had left in this world for family, and even knowing his opinions on people with wings -- ridiculous -- she still desperately wanted to meet him. Abel suddenly leaped off the couch and zoomed toward the door. Necklace! Kaden’s panicked shout sounded from the kitchen, and Regan bolted up. It was so easy to forget she wasn’t even wearing it these days. Even Kaden didn’t seem to mind. She plucked it from the bowl in the middle of the table and clasped it on, then slipped into a cardigan to hide the long slits in the back of her shirt, too. Those would probably raise a brow. There was a lot riding on her ability to hide her symptoms -- not just Oscar’s inevitable poor reaction, but more importantly, his relationship with Kaden.

She followed Kaden over to the door, observing his shaking hands and the nervous flitting of his eyes toward her back. Her own anxiety was spiking, knowing how much was on the line, but Kaden’s was definitely worse. Regan slid her arms around him, careful to avoid the healing gunshot wound, and pressed her lips to his warm cheek. “Kaden, it’ll be-- there’s no way he’d know. I mean, with the necklace. Nothing’s going to go wrong. No wings, no mimes, just a normal dinner with delicious food and a mountain of anxiety.” That didn’t seem to make things better as he opened the door.

Oscar was… well, he was older than Kaden, but not by the huge margin Regan had expected. He had a weathered look to him, punctuated by a dry, easy smile. Her eyes searched for features shared with Kaden, before she remembered that the two of them weren’t actually blood relatives. Her stomach plummeted as Kaden motioned toward her in introduction, and then he took off, called back by the kitchen. The words of comfort she had for Kaden just a few seconds ago dried up in her mouth, as she realized it was just the two of them right now. She extended a hand, but immediately thought better of it, remembering her cold skin. “I, uh -- it’s really nice to -- I’m Regan. Like he just said. You know that. Obviously. It’s not like Kaden has a bunch of random women living with him, so that’s probably -- oh, uh, not that I live with him. We each have our own apartment. Separately. Though he’s staying with me right now while he heals; he was just insistent on using his own kitchen for this, so we -- he was badly hurt, you know. He was in the hospital...” Kaden, please come back. She shot a pleading look toward the kitchen. No salvation came. “Oh! He’s okay now, though. Well, mostly. Well enough to be doing this. I’m a doctor, so I’ve been making sure he doesn’t over-exert himself, and -- and sorry, I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Or sometimes not at all. But Kaden suggested we talk, so that’s -- it’s nice to meet you.”

Oscar had to admit that being in the same town as Kaden again felt nice. As an only child with no children himself, it wasn’t as if he had much outside the hunter community. Plus, this town had no shortage of beasts to kill. Most of his recent hunts had been hedgehounds and bonedoggles, but it was only a matter of time before a more exciting fight came into play. It was no wonder Kaden chose to call this place home. Hell, he was essentially even getting paid to hunt in a very official capacity. He was proud of the life his nephew had built for himself here. While it was a little too on the up and up for his liking, it was good to see him doing well for himself. He was looking forward to meeting this Regan that he seemed so sweet on. It was a surprise to see him settling down to this extent, but as long as he wasn’t shirking his duty, the kid deserved a little happiness.

He opted to wear a sweater rather than his usual leather jacket. No need to have Kaden’s lady friend making unsavory assumptions about him. Oscar knew they were all likely to be true, but making a good impression all around was probably important to Kaden. He’d brought a case of beer along with him. As he knocked on the door, he heard Abel alert everyone of his presence. The fact both Kaden and Regan seemed a bit nervous wasn’t lost on Oscar. “No worries,” he assured as he made his way inside, “I’m sure your lady and I can find something to talk about while you finish cooking.” He handed off the case of beer he brought before Kaden ran off to follow the timer that was going off. He shook his head and let out a small chuckle. “It’s good to meet you, Regan.”

Before he could get another word in, she seemed to be rambling at a million miles a minute. Apparently they didn’t live together, not that Oscar would care if they were. They were both adults after all. Hell, she’d probably be safer having Kaden around, especially considering there was a ghost trying to kill both of them. He placed his hands up and laughed a bit as he responded, “Immer sachte, even if you two did live together, I wouldn’t care. Not that it matters what I think. It’s Kaden’s life. If having you around makes him happy, then I’m happy for him.” He still couldn’t quite understand it, being in a relationship with a human who didn’t know about the supernatural, but it was obvious they cared for each other. “I’m glad he has a medical professional taking care of him though,” he added though he wondered how she didn’t question the speed at which his wounds healed. He walked over to the couch with Abel following close behind and took a seat. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Regan. I know that you’re a medical examiner and apparently entirely too smart for Kaden here, but not much else.”

Kaden couldn’t tell if the sweat on his brow was coming from the warm kitchen or from everything else. What were they saying over there? Had he seen the wings? Somehow? Through the glamour of the necklace? Putain, he’d definitely seen the wings and was probably about to stab her right now. Then he heard her rambling all the way from the kitchen. He stood up straight and inhaled deeply. This was fine. It would be fine. Hell, he thought she was human for months. Oscar couldn’t possibly figure it out in one night.

Right. Kaden swallowed back the panic. Or was it finally bile? He wasn’t sure. Still he raced around the kitchen, trying to work as fast as possible. What if she shook his hand? Putain de merde, he’d know, he’d figured it out, maybe he already had. Kaden poked his head out of the kitchen briefly. They were just standing and talking. He rushed back in as soon as he remembered he had to take the fucking food off the stove top. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breathe. He had to breathe.

Kaden held that breath, expanding his lungs and waiting, trying to force his pulse back to something normal. Alright. The food only needed a minute longer to cool off and he could plate it. Nothing more for him to do in the kitchen. Probably good. As much as he wanted to run away from the situation, leaving the two of them alone seemed far worse. He grabbed a beer for Oscar, pouring it into a stout glass. He grabbed the wine and poured out a glass for Regan. And for a moment he stood there and contemplated which he wanted for himself. The beer Oscar had brought was a good one, he expected nothing less from his uncle, it was a good dark stout and was no doubt enjoyable. The wine he’d bought for the meal was perfectly balanced, just right for the coq au vin he was preparing and about to serve. Oscar wouldn’t poke fun at him for picking the wine, right? Putain. He was sure he’d enjoy both, but he didn’t know how to pick. Practically speaking, the bottle was open now. So wine it was for him. He couldn’t exactly waste any more time hiding away, he needed to intervene.

“I was gone for a minute and already talking shit about me, I see,” Kaden said to Oscar, carrying the drinks over as best he could, handing the beer to the other hunter and one of the wine glasses to Regan. “You’re not wrong though.” He stood close to Regan and took an awkward sip from his glass, not sure what to say next or how this was supposed to go. “We can sit soon. Or you should. I’ll get the food in a minute. It just needs to cool off a little.” It would be great if the tension he felt could cool down, too.  

Oscar wanted to know about her. Beyond her job. This already felt like navigating a mimefield. Er, minefield. “No, no, we can’t live together,” Regan insisted. Then realized why she shouldn’t say that. It would raise questions. “Uh, I mean because… I barely sleep. You know, rising early to go for a run and then spending evening hours at the morgue. Oh, but you asked about me outside of work. Wait, did Kaden say that? I’m not-- I’m lucky to have him.” She felt the blood rising to her cheeks, and scurried behind Oscar over to the couch. She stayed standing, nervous about inching too close. There was no way he’d be able to tell, right? She hadn’t shook his hand. He couldn’t hear her pulse from here, surely. And even if he had done or was capable of those things, what was to say that he’d even put two-and-two together? Her condition was incredibly rare -- so rare that Regan had never heard of a medical professional who knew about it.

“Well, I… I’m from Augusta. It’s a few hours from here. J'apprends le français. Kaden is teaching me, of course. And, don’t worry. The first word I picked up was putain.” Regan leaned flat against the wall, observing Oscar’s comfort level with Abel. The two were well-acquainted. “I have brothers. One in Augusta, and one near Boston.” Though her relationship with both of them ranged from complicated to non-existent, given recent events. “No pets, but I was recently reunited with my childhood coyote skeleton. Is that, uh, sufficient?”

Thankfully, Kaden came fumbling back into the room, smelling like warm food and looking like he’d gone for a cycle through a washing machine. He thought-- “What? No, we weren’t-- right, joke.” Normally even she would realize that right away. This was tense. Regan shook her hands out in front of her like it could relieve some of the situation’s gravity, and she sidled closer to Kaden. “Are you doing okay?” She whispered, trying to catch a moment when Oscar was preoccupied. “We’re fine, Kaden. Really. Just…” She noticed what he was holding. Well, she’d noted the wine glasses before. But realized they were glass as he pushed one of them into her hands. Regan’s eyes flicked between the glass and Kaden, as she tried to communicate her worry.

The wine glass in her hand felt dangerous. Even on a good day, bringing one to her lips or holding one felt like tempting fate. Today, her nerves were relentless. Meeting your significant other’s closest relative did that, she supposed. And according to Kaden, Oscar happened to be a bigot. Who would hate her if he knew about the wings on her back. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to file that away somewhere, never to revisit it, or if she wanted to cling onto that fact, unable to fully see Oscar as the good, kind, loving person Kaden had always known him to be. Regan gulped down a breath and treaded carefully into the kitchen. Without any commentary, she quietly swapped her wine glass out for a plastic one. Fortunately, Kaden started keeping some non-glass options. Regan wasn’t sure exactly when he’d bought them, but she suspected it was after she’d blown up his entire alcohol cabinet. Dinner smelled close to done, and when she turned around, she saw Kaden and Oscar had followed her. “So, um, do you want to fill us in on what you’re making, Kaden?” She turned to Oscar, setting her new glass on the table to hopefully divert some attention from it. “I assume you know about Kaden’s proclivity for making incredible food. Desserts, especially.” One of the things Kaden took from his mother, which left Regan wondering… just how much did Oscar know about his parents?

It was a bit confusing as Regan explained why they couldn’t live together, but Oscar shrugged it off. Whether or not they were ready to live together was entirely on them though he imagined it’d be difficult for Kaden to explain nightly patrols, especially on the nights surrounding the full moon. It was for the better, not that it was truly his place to say. “No need to explain yourself, but I’ll say it’s admirable how dedicated you are to your work. He did, but I think you’re probably right. You’re both lucky to have each other.” He mostly believed it though he had a hard time wrapping his mind around having an honest to god relationship with someone clueless about the supernatural. Kaden had to be free to make his own choices though he could practically hear Lauren chiding him about legacies of all things.

Oscar let out a hearty laugh as Kaden returned from the kitchen and handed a beer over to him. While he’d hardly call it talking shit, it was always a good time to poke a little fun. “Now, now, I’m just using your words, Junge, though the more she talks the more I’m inclined to agree,” he joked. He took a refreshing sip of his beer and focused his attention back to Regan as Kaden put the finishing touches on their meals. He hadn’t heard of Augusta, but he did chuckle at the mention of the first French word she had learned being putain. Not surprising coming from Kaden. “Ah, putain de merde, I see someone still has a foul mouth. I can assure you he didn’t get that from me. Le français est une belle langue mais l'allemand est meilleur,” he responded before adding, “A coyote skeleton, huh? I take it you’ve loved biology from a young age then?” A bit strange, but not entirely concerning on its own.

Something was off though Oscar couldn’t quite place it. Both Kaden and Regan seemed apprehensive and he couldn’t understand why. Sure, he’d given Kaden a hard time about settling down with a nice lady, but they had to know he’d only been joking, right? Maybe he’d have a talk with Kaden later though he hated serious conversations.  For now, he’d do his best to lighten the mood as he followed Regan and Kaden over to the table. “Kaden’s always been a good cook. That part he definitely didn’t get from me though I can make a great bratwurst.” There still seemed to be an air of tension, so he went along and agreed, “Please do fill us in. Everything smells great. I know your papa would be proud.”

“That’s bullshit,” Kaden shot back with an easy laugh. “I’m pretty sure I learned every curse word I know from you. In three languages no less.” He shook his head a bit before taking a sip of his wine. With the way Regan was holding the glass like it was a grenade, he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. Should he have gone with beer for all of them instead? No that seemed wrong. Still, he couldn’t figure it out.

In the brief moment Oscar turned away to give Abel some of the attention he was begging for from any of the humans in the room, he gave Regan’s free hand a squeeze. “I’m alright. I’m fine. It’s--” Kaden tried to keep his voice at a whisper but it was hard to manage with them spilling out a mile a minute. His words trailed off as he followed her line of sight to the glass, his brow knitting together as he focused on the stemare. What was the issue? Did she not want wine? Should he have gotten something different? His eyes flitted back to hers, still narrowed in confusion and missing whatever very obvious hint she was clearly trying to send him. Nope, still didn’t get it. “Did you want something different?” As soon as the words left his mouth it hit him.

Putain, he was an idiot. The glass. Guess he wasn’t lying when he said she was too smart for him. Before Kaden could figure out what the hell to do with the glass, any of it, all of it, Oscar had stopped petting the dog and looked back at them. Well, fuck. That was it, this was doomed. He should make them both leave now, that’d solve the issue. Thankfully Regan slipped away into the kitchen, likely to make a swap. Okay good. He could do this.

“Must not have poured enough,” he said with an attempt at a small chuckle. Kaden looked over at Oscar, hoping to catch his eye, ask him without words if he approved or-- well, merde, he didn’t know what he was asking, really. Some sign this was all going okay? He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what he was even meant to do in this scenario. There was some solace in the fact that he was confident that Oscar was just as lost as he was muddling through this. “You like her so far?” he asked once Regan was out of earshot. For someone who spent a lot of his time touting how little he cared about what others thought of him, Kaden was pretty concerned about what his uncle thought of his life. At least he did now, when it was looking like the path he was carving was different than the one his uncle took. Not that he ever expected that to be the case.

Regan headed to the table and Kaden figured it was about time to get the food ready. “You sit down, I’ll bring out the food,” he said as he branched away towards the kitchen to grab the plates, bringing the dishes out one by one. Quickly. The less time they were left alone, the better, right? “So tonight we have coq au vin served with rosemary roasted potatoes and green beans blanched with a dijon vinaigrette on the side,” he said, placing the plates in front of them.

“And of course, a tarte tatin for dessert,” he added, flashing Regan a quick smile as he took his seat, finally. “I considered making a soup course to start with but I, uh,” Didn’t want to extend the evening any longer than he had to. “Well, I think I went overboard as it is so bon appétit.”

His stomach was twisted in a complicated web of knots. It was all Kaden could manage to pick at the food in front of him that he spent so many hours creating. But pick away he did, his eyes barely on his food. Instead he was trying not to stare at Regan and Oscar intently. Right, he drifted his gaze back down to the table instead. The tablecloth. It… It was purple. And polka dotted. And were those dots changing sizes. “What the…” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The fucking pixie. Great. Just great. The one factor of this equation he hadn’t planned for. Maybe Oscar wouldn’t notice. “So, uh, anyway, how’s the food?”

Shit. Crap. Putain. She shouldn’t have mentioned the childhood coyote skeleton. Would he see that as a symptom? No, no, surely there were plenty of children who opted for articulated animal skeletons instead of stuffed toys, right? Regan stuttered, unable to get a good, convincing answer past her lips. “It’s-- well, yes, I always have-- sometimes I find b-- I mean, I had all of the bones, and I wanted to-- it seemed a waste to not--” Kaden saved her, describing dinner. He must have been really stressed to cook so much. Not surprising, but the thought ached inside of her nonetheless. He wanted both of their approval. That much was obvious, despite Kaden’s usual commentary about not caring about that kind of thing. Regan never really believed that to be true, and any conversation involving Kaden’s family highlighted just how false it was. She’d share her own thoughts about Oscar with him later, after he left. So far, they were mostly positive. That alone sat inside of her uncomfortably, considering what she knew about him beyond his easy and kind demeanor. Based on what Kaden had told her, this dinner would be going very differently if she hadn’t been wearing the necklace.

The food looked and smelled delicious, but her stomach was too full of nerves for her to fully enjoy it. Still, she did her best to clear at least half of the plate. Whatever they didn’t finish would either go home with Oscar, or the two of them could have it as leftovers when they didn’t need to worry about one small slip-up leading to Kaden being ostracized from the only remaining family he had left. Regan’s pulse spiked at the thought, the reminder of what was at stake. She set her fork down. Looked at her plastic glass full of wine, untouched. Her hands felt shaky, and she needed to step away, collect herself, conduct the breathing exercises Deirdre taught her so she didn’t end up accidentally breaking something by exhaling too harshly. “I’ll be right--”

But as Regan set her hands on the tablecloth to stand up, she noticed something. “Kaden, is this… a new tablecloth?” She studied it. Purple with polka dots. At least it wasn’t black and white stripes, but it was a far cry from Kaden’s usual decor. “Remind me to find you one that’s less-- well, one that fits in with the rest of your kitchen.” Not that Regan was much of an interior decorator -- her own apartment was primarily stark white so she didn’t have to consider things like this -- but a garish tablecloth undercut his cooking. She ran it through her fingers, noting that the dots almost seemed to be… no, they were moving. Some were growing, while others were shrinking. A few turned into black-and-white cookies, split down the middle. “Kaden.” She looked at him, eyes wide. This wasn’t normal. This was one of those things. Like the mushrooms in Kaden’s bed, or how Abel’s tail was occasionally green. Rumpleskuffs. She drummed her fingers anxiously against the table, before looking at Oscar, then Kaden again. “You know, our friend may have sold you a faulty tablecloth. Maybe we should go speak with him.” It was just close enough to the truth that she didn’t double over, but deep enough into liar’s territory that she choked, spilling her wine across the table.

Oscar feigned shock at Kaden’s statement. Of course he had been the one to teach Kaden swear words much to his parents’ disapproval, but it was more fun to play the innocent card. He turned to Regan and playfully commented, “Don’t believe a word this one says about me. I am and always have been a perfect gentleman.” He couldn’t even keep a straight face and laughed almost immediately after the words left his mouth. Somehow, the mood still didn’t feel any lighter and Regan seemed to spiral into another small ramble. Had what he said been offensive? Sometimes it was difficult for him to pick up on small nuances in English as it wasn’t his first or most spoken language. “I didn’t mean it if it sounded as if I was questioning the coyote skeleton. While not my cup of tea, I think science is important and it’s admirable that you took an interest in it at such a young age,” he clarified. Or at least he hoped he had. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Kaden’s girlfriend off when by all indication it appeared his nephew built himself a good life here.

The spread Kaden had going for dinner was nothing short of impressive. Oscar had no doubt in his mind that Lauren would be proud of this meal. It highlighted their culture and cuisine while still having some of the familiar aspects he’d remembered in dinners at the Langley home back in Lyons whenever Lauren and Charles would prepare a meal. It was hard not to be nostalgic for those days. Hell, it probably should have been them here at this dinner with Kaden and his lady, but here he was, doing his best still to be a stand in. Uncle had always better suited him. He was better at the more fun aspects of things, but Oscar was all Kaden had left. Maybe he’d never be able to provide the same stability Lauren and Charles had, but he’d be here when it counted. Right now, it did. “It smells just as good as I remember it. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good coq au vin.”

He had dove into eating his meal. After an afternoon filled with target practice, Oscar had worked up quite the appetite. Everything smelled and tasted so delicious, he’d been caught up in his first few bites before he noticed Kaden and Regan were being even stranger now. He looked up from his plate and set his fork down. “What’s wrong,” he asked, looking to Kaden before the movement on the tablecloth caught his attention. “Sheisse!” It was purple and moving when it decidedly had not been before. Somehow, he’d ended up with a cursed tablecloth though he had to think quick to explain it to Regan. It seemed she’d already come up with a logical explanation. “Yeah, Junge, I think your friend has an odd sense of humor. Holographic tablecloths are a little gauche, but a real shit prank.” Maybe not the best explanation, but he was thinking on his feet as the Americans said. Regan seemed to be sputtering and he looked to Kaden, “We should probably just remove the tablecloth.”

Normally Regan wasn’t one to pick at her food. Not unless something was off. Kaden knew that much. His heart sunk down into the knots of his stomach as his mind flashed to months ago, them sitting at the same table, picking at their food the same way just moments before the first time he first saw her wings. His eyes caught Oscar, scarfing down dinner like nothing was amiss. Good, that was good. He didn’t suspect anything. Not yet. He was just as clueless as Kaden had been. Maybe more. “Glad you like it,” he said, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smile despite his worry. It was hard not to feel a little pride swell at the thought of following in his family’s footsteps, doing them proud, even with something as silly as getting a family recipe right.

The knot in his stomach didn’t untangle much, though. And it was obvious Regan was just fraught as he was over the whole situation. Maybe Kaden shouldn’t have told her as much as he had about Oscar, let her be a little less nervous for this. No, that would have been worse. Much worse. Keeping her in the dark might have been easier for them upfront but worse in the long run. Plus, there was some comfort in knowing he wasn’t alone with his nerves. He caught her eye and saw the flash of pure panic in them. Oh no. Not now. His jaw clenched as his eyes remained fixed on hers. Should he follow her? Do something? What if she was going to scream? Putain. He took a large swig of his wine. He had to calm down. Stress would only make this worse. If he was panicked, how could he even begin to help her? He was just about to ask her if she needed help when she pointed out what he already saw.

Shit. Kaden was hoping that he was the only one to notice that. He looked down at and back up at Oscar and then Regan. “This? Uh, yeah, it’s, uh new…” Relief hit him like a wave when she filled in the blanks for him. A small wave, tiny. Oscar did the rest. “You’re right. I should really get rid of it, just--” And then the wine splashed across the table, some of it onto his lap. Abel was up and at the side of the table, trying to lap up whatever it was that was falling off the table, hoping to get some crumbs, anything. “No, down! Shit!” He tried to push the dog away and save what he could of the food but neither was working particularly well.

Well this was a mess already. Not the kind Kaden had expected, though he really should have. He grabbed Abel’s collar and went to put him in his crate or the bedroom, something, when it hit him. “Sorry, I have to-- Can you two get the table cloth? I’ll be right back.” He turned and saw a rainbow budding out across the kitchen. Putain de merde. He’d asked the pixie to keep it down. Maybe he should have been more specific. Shit, they were going to see the-- “Uh, look! Over there! I think something spilled on the-- by the-- the thing!” he said, pointing away from the kitchen. Yes. What a perfect distraction. He grumbled and turned to go to the bedroom with Abel, but paused and realized he needed a bribe first. He dragged Abel with him to the pie in the kitchen and picked off a small piece, trying to keep it away from the dog. “Not yet,” he mumbled. “Regan will get you a peanut butter treat in a minute.” Abel barked an approval as they walked to the bedroom to go talk to a pixie.

As the wine spilled across the table, Regan’s hands flew to cover her mouth. She felt her palms vibrate as she caught and snuffed out a high-pitched yelp. A glance up. Lights intact. Nothing broken. She sighed in relief, and then slowly dropped her hands back to her sides. Close, too close. At least Oscar seemed to think Kaden got his hands on a holographic tablecloth, and-- well, maybe it really was that. It was a far more logical explanation than a “pixie” in a cage somehow altering their perception from several rooms away.

She was beginning to think she was going just as mad as Kaden, and the rest of this damn town.

“Sorry! I’ll clean this up. You--” Regan met Kaden’s eyes to confirm that he knew exactly where he needed to go. “You go do the, uh, thing. That you have to do. You know, talk to our friend! I’ll be here. With your uncle. Cleaning wine.” Her nerves spiked as what that meant started to sink in. She didn’t want to be alone with him again, not when it felt so risky. At least with Kaden here, one of them was functionally able to lie if necessary. That, and his presence just made her feel a little more at ease. She could do this, right? They could talk about things that weren’t death-related. She was capable of carrying out a normal conversation… right? “Do you like, uh, yogurt?” She asked Oscar as Kaden scurried out of the room as quickly as possible. But as she looked over at Oscar, right there behind his shoulder was-- no, that had to be light coming through the window, refracting through the glass. There wasn’t a rainbow inside of Kaden’s apartment. No way. But as she stared, saw each color grow brighter and brighter, she realized this -- somehow -- could have been Rumpleskuff’s doing as well. Crap. He couldn’t know about Rumpleskuffs, could he? He had wings, just like her. Well, not just like her. Hers were far nicer. Not that they were nice. She shook her head at the thought. Get his attention away from the rainbow. That’s what Kaden would be trying to do at this moment.

Crap crap crap crap. What was the best way to distract someone? “Hey!” Regan clapped, hoping the noise would draw Oscar’s eyes, “Let’s, uh, clean up this wine! But don’t go searching for a rag. I have one, um, right over…” She looked in the opposite direction from the rainbow. Not many dishtowel-like objects to choose from over there, but she took a chance rummaging through one of the drawers. That’s when she found it-- a pair of boxer shorts? In-- why were they-- Regan frowned deeply at the underwear in her hands. It was covered in black and white stripes. She’d have questions for Kaden once Oscar left. “Let’s use these,” she said, trying to smooth any sign of being disturbed out of her voice. She motioned toward the table hoping to keep Oscar’s eyes on this side of the room. His gaze kept wandering, though. Time for last resorts -- she put a hand on his shoulder and guided it around, back toward the kitchen table. “Don’t worry about the faulty tablecloth! Just, uh, we need to clean the floor. You know, so it doesn’t get sticky.”

Verdammt! What was supposed to be an enjoyable dinner with his nephew and his girlfriend had spiraled into utter chaos. Oscar shook his head as wine spilled off the table in an attempt to remove the table cloth. Of course the dog was eager to lick anything up that made its way to the floor. How Regan wasn’t running for the hills right now was a mystery to him, but he always found non-powered humans had an odd way of rationalizing things. The yelp she was holding in was still sizable enough to indicate she was alarmed. He looked to her and did his best to remain calm. “It’s okay, looks like your friend is a real jokester. It’s just a tablecloth. Don’t worry, we’ll get it out of here.” What they would do about the inevitable curse on it was another question entirely. Had the feud he had going with the mimes escalated?

Kaden was rushing off to put Abel away and give someone a call. Hopefully a fucking spellcaster because this was a disaster. Oscar had been looking forward to this evening and didn’t quite appreciate the rude interruption. He was perplexed by the question about yogurt. “Yeah, I guess,” he answered while trying to further assess the situation. He knelt down to pick up the fallen food and was shocked when Regan suggested he used a pair of striped underpants to wipe up the wine. He looked at her, confusion evident in his face, and muttered, “Sheisse.”

“Are you telling me my nephew doesn’t keep dish towels, rags, or even paper products around for cleaning,” Oscar asked, trying to keep his tone more shocked than annoyed. His frustration wasn’t with Regan, rather with the mess of a situation they found themselves in. Though the stripes on the underwear confirmed that the mimes were definitely trying to curse his nephew. As much was truly bizarre. He shook his head and used the boxers anyway. Hopefully the curse on them wasn’t passed on by contact otherwise he and Regan would both be screwed. He started wiping up the wine though the floor was still sticky. “Does he have any cleaning spray I can use here?” He looked up from the floor, perplexed to see a rainbow in the kitchen. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “You know what, never mind, I have some water right here. Why don’t you finish your meal?” There’d be no way to explain the rainbow in the kitchen, so he hoped food was an adequate distraction.

“Hey, cut it out!” Kaden whispered harshly to the pixie on the dresser. “What about ‘keep it down’ did you not understand?” He grumbled and handed over the small piece of pie he’d nabbed over to the tiny fae. It wasn’t much of an offering, but it was better than nothing. “There are two big legs out there and at least one of them would kill you if he knew you were here.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Putain, it was entirely possible that Oscar could hear him talking in here. Hunter hearing. He’d have to keep it down, hope that he assumed he was talking to the dog. Abel looked at him and barked, expecting his own tiny treat, especially if the small winged thing got one. “Later. I promise,” he told the dog. That’s when it hit him. He blinked and then turned to Rumpleskuffs. Back to Abel. Then to the pixie again. “I’ll let you ride Abel around the room the whole time we’re out there if you promise to keep it down and no more illusions until Oscar leaves.”

Rumpleskuffs gasped in delight as Kaden walked into the room, bouncing off the walls of the cage. He kept begging Kaden to let him go spend one night in a fairy ring. Heck, he just wanted one mushroom. “All your friends always want to kill me! And you keep not letting them, so I’m okay, big guy!” He replied with a wicked grin, enchanting the air around him red with white spots, swirling and dancing around him. But Kaden had his frowny, serious face on, so Rumple pouted, collapsing on to his back dramatically. “Ughhhhh! Do you know what you need, Kaden-Waden? A sense of humour!” He sat up sharply at the suggestion of riding Abel again. “Oh, yes please! I promise to keep it - whatever that is - down and no more illusions until Oscar leaves! Let me at him!”

Kaden breathed a sigh of relief as he opened up the cage and let Rumpleskuffs fly over to Abel who seemed to not mind his small winged friend at all. Well at least both of them would be occupied and he slipped out to go see what was happening now with Regan and Oscar. His pulse spiked again at the thought alone. No, they were okay. They had to be. He would have heard a scream otherwise. He couldn’t have anticipated what he saw in his wildest dreams. They were both on the floor with some black and white striped fabric in their hands wiping off the floor. The rainbow behind them in the kitchen was fading away which was good but-- Wait. “Whose boxers are those? And where-- Why?” He shook his head and went to grab a towel in the kitchen and just saw rows and rows of striped boxers there. “What the fuck?” He couldn’t tell if that was a Rumpleskuffs or Isabelle special, but he grumbled some curse words to himself either way and grabbed a roll of paper towels. “Both of you sit. Eat. I’ve got it,” he said as he crouched down and wiped up the last of the wine. “Those aren’t mine. For the record,” he said pointing to the fucking mime boxers.

“He, uh… he does keep them. Just not… here.” Regan winced, anticipating a lump in her throat from the lie, but it never came. She supposed it was vague enough. “He’s very clean. You know, I think it comes with the territory of being such a talented chef. Clean kitchen, clean food, plenty of cleaning supplies and dish towels and rags, but-- don’t concern yourself with it, just use the… boxers. He doesn’t want them, anyways. Trust me.” If he even knew they were here.

Regan should have figured things would go south; they almost always did. At least this time, it hadn’t directly been her fault. She just needed to continue not being suspicious. “No, no, I’ll help. I don’t want to eat while the two of you are, um, handling things.” Not to mention, it felt like there was a storm surging in her stomach. She wasn’t going to be able to settle it enough to enjoy dinner now, and she had a feeling Kaden would feel the same. As Oscar cleaned the floor, Regan carefully transported everything from the kitchen table to the counter so she could roll up and discard the table cloth.

The rainbow hovered menacingly across the kitchen, just waiting for Oscar to catch a glimpse of it. Kaden needed to come back, and soon. Regan wasn’t sure she could hold Oscar off for much longer. She tried to stay on the opposite side of the room, keeping his attention drawn, but -- “Look over here!” She said, as Oscar nearly turned toward the rainbow. She leaped down onto the floor with him, doing some scrubbing of her own, “I mean, because, uh, oh! Kaden is coming back. I hear him.” Fortunately, she really did. She sighed audibly and sank down to her butt. Kaden was back. Everything was going to be okay. He even looked less nervous than before. “Did you talk to him?” But his face was bunched up in confusion. As Regan looked down to what was in her and Oscar’s hands, she understood why. “Oh, these are… they’re not yours, are they? We found them in the drawer. I didn’t want to get a towel because of the--” No. Don’t say it. “It doesn’t matter. Look, we cleaned up most of the wine! Everything is taken care of.” Out of the corner of her eye, Regan checked on the rainbow; even that was rapidly fading. Phew. “We don’t have a tablecloth now though, unless you have extras.” Or… Regan had a thought, staring at the innumerable striped boxers.

No.

Sometimes it was better to just not use a tablecloth.

This was decidedly not how this evening was supposed to go. Sure, settling down had never been Oscar’s thing, but he always had a soft spot for Kaden, even before Lauren and Charles had passed away. While the hijinks going on couldn’t possibly be blamed on him or ruin Regan’s impression of him, he still would have preferred things go smoothly despite the fact he normally loved some supernatural sheisse getting in the way of things. It usually meant some sort of fight though he had the feeling later on Kaden would not be opposed to letting him fight the mime who did this. It had to be a mime, right? Why else would striped boxers appear though the rainbow and purple tablecloth were also unsettling. He’d need to talk to Kaden when Regan wasn’t around. There was no need for her to get dragged into all this crap. She was drawing his attention now. “Right, yeah, he’s coming back,” he glanced briefly back at the fading rainbow which Regan seemed to have missed. That was a close one.

“What kind of people have you been hanging out with, Junge? Aren’t you a little old for pranks,” Oscar ribbed, hoping the natural air of humor he had about him would call away from anything suspicious about the situation. Kaden was insisting they sit back down and eat though now he could see the rainbow fading. The striped boxers while alarming were still funny now that he wasn’t actively trying to keep Regan from seeing anything too crazy. He could relax a bit now. That had been quite the jolt of excitement that would have been thrilling under just about any other circumstance. With a hearty chuckle, he answered, “I think we can do without the table cloth. I don’t think I’m a fancy enough guest to warrant it anyway.”

Oscar seemed to shrug off everything that had just happened, but Regan still felt the tension simmering through the kitchen. She stuck to Kaden’s side now that he was back, her arm entwining with his. As much as she wanted to whisper something to him right now about how close they’d come to Oscar seeing the rainbow, it was best to wait until they were alone. How would she have explained that, anyway? Well, actually, Regan could think of a number of implausible explanations, but she didn’t think any of them were right. She didn’t know what was right. Why had that been happening so often, lately? She looked at Kaden, staring nervously as Oscar joked up the cloth being a prank. There was silence for what felt like a minute. “Yes. A prank.”

“This isn’t from a person. It’s from a mime,” Kaden said with contempt. He thought the cookies would be the last of it. The stripes, wasn’t that torment enough? Hadn’t he suffered enough? He grumbled about Isabelle and fucking stripes, mostly in French while he helped clear off the table cloth. He sighed and brushed it aside when he felt Regan’s arm loop around his. He’d deal with all the mime nonsense and pixie nonsense and fae bullshit later. At this point, if Oscar didn’t know that Regan wasn’t human and a rainbow in the middle of the kitchen didn’t raise enough of an eyebrow to pull him aside, Kaden had to believe the rest of the night might be uneventful. It had to be, right? “You’re probably right, though. Just a prank. I’ll… figure it out later.” This night couldn’t last much longer, they were running out of disasters. And the last thing he wanted to do was tempt fate. “You know, I think we should skip to dessert. One second,” he said, giving Regan a quick peck on the cheek before turning back to the kitchen.

One step forward and a chill ran down his spine. The hell was that about? Could he sense fae now? What was going on? Kaden paused and looked around and saw the small mime monster made of cookies scurry through, a small mouse tail and little feet dangling from its stomach, and then slide out under the door. He stood there blinking as it crawled away, out of the apartment. “Putain,” he muttered. No. Not tonight. Later. He grabbed the pie and cut a few slices, carrying them back over with him. “How about we just eat in the living room on the couch?”

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Helpless || Kaden & Ariana

TIMING: Before Ariana lost her name and Kaden had stripes PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana & Kaden go to Celeste’s memorial tree to remember her, but end up getting rudely interrupted in a true White Crest fashion. (x) 

No matter how busy she kept herself, Ariana couldn’t help the constant dull ache that seemed to be present. Summers had always been Ariana’s favorite as a kid. Even though Celeste usually had to work crazy hours to make enough money for them to survive on, she’d always made time for some summer fun. Whether it was random midnight s’mores, a camping trip, or simply long hikes-- it always seemed like they had so much quality time together while Ari was out of school. It only served to make Ariana miss her sister even more. She wanted to go to Celeste’s tree, talk to her a bit. Maybe reminisce some. The thought of going alone just felt… wrong. She wanted to share those memories with someone else who would help keep them alive. That was why she went against what most would consider her better judgment and invited Kaden out with her. She could give him the knives on the promise he wouldn’t use them on wolves and she could share some stories she knew Kaden would appreciate. They’d been friends after all. He’d want to know where her memorial was, too. And hey, if chatting with Celeste during his hunter existential crisis saved some wolves, it’d be better anyway. She leaned against a tree toward the edge of the wood where they agreed to meet. The familiar smell of spice and cedar of his cologne alerted her to his presence before he was in her line of sight. “Hey,” she greeted, waving somewhat awkwardly, “Thanks for coming. I do have some stuff for you, but I’ve just been… a lot’s been going on and it just makes me miss her more.” She had to assume he’d know what she meant given his own experience with loss. That sinking sensation of wanting so badly to tell the person you love most about a good or bad or even inconsequential thing only to remember you couldn’t. 

Kaden kept making one terrible idea after another. That’s how it felt, anyway. First trying to talk to Morgan the other day, then that meeting with Winn at Ricky’s warehouse, now he was meeting a werewolf in the woods. Sure, that werewolf was his friend’s sister but all the same. “Hey,” he said with a nod as he walked up to her, a little unsure of himself. Putain, he didn’t know how to feel about Ariana. All he knew was he couldn’t bring himself to kill someone younger than Blanche, he couldn’t have that blood on his hands. But if she lost control… Well, it’d be a fucking problem, that was for sure. “Yeah, I get it. Sometimes you want to ignore it and just have a day that doesn’t completely suck.” He could feel the chill run down his spine as he stood closer to her, the one that never let him forget what she was. Did he want to? Merde. He rolled his shoulders and did his best to force it back into his subconscious as best he could. “Thanks for showing me where this is. I-- I know it’s…” Private? He wasn’t sure. If she had wanted to keep it that way, he’d understand. Celeste had made a deep imprint on his life even though he had only briefly known her. His hand reached to adjust the small band of black leather around his wrist, the one Celeste had sent him that only arrived posthumously. It still hurt knowing how close she was to forging her own path, how long she’d succeeded only for it to come crashing down on her. He knew he’d always be a hunter, that wasn’t something he questioned. But knowing it and seeing it demonstrated like that? Like what happened to her? It wasn’t the same. “You didn’t have to. Is my point. So thanks.”

For all their differences, Ariana found their common ground comforting. Celeste had been the most important thing linking them together and somehow maintaining that link just felt right. Like in some way, Celeste could still live on because of them. With the pressures of life in White Crest starting to weigh her down, she needed to cling to that sense. Maybe she didn’t quite trust him around other wolves, but somehow she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Plus, he understood what she was going through better than most. “Yeah, it’s harder lately. Probably because literally everything else sucks right now and the only thing I want to do is talk to her about it.” At least pretending wasn’t necessary with Kaden. She decided to take a seat on the ground in front of the tree. A little bit of dirt never hurt anyone and she guessed sitting in the woods was their thing now. She took a deep breath, looking ahead at the tree, trying to feel some small sense of Celeste’s presence even if she knew she passed on. Part of her wished she was a ghost so she could talk to her even one more time, but she knew that was selfish. Celeste deserved peace more than anyone. She nodded at Kaden’s statement, somehow she knew what he meant. She also knew he was important to Celeste which was enough reason to show him this spot. “I told you I would. I know… well, you guys were friends. She cared about you, she’d want you to be able to visit if you wanted or needed to.” As much was true. Her sister had been the most caring person she’d ever known. With that in mind, she pulled her backpack off her shoulder and put it in front of her. She rummaged through it for a few knives she’d set aside to give Kaden. She tentatively held them out for him. “Figured these would be a nice little reminder of her. Just don’t… well, you know, use them on wolves. I trust you not to, just thought I should like… specify. I think their last use was those stupid little finger eating squirrels. We used to practice throwing with them a lot.” 

“Thanks. I--” Appreciated it. Needed this. All of that, really. Grief wasn’t linear. Kaden knew that really fucking well by now. But walking up to the tree there, it brought it back like Ariana had just told him. The sting that Celeste was gone felt like a freshly opened wound again. He felt his chest tighten in the familiar way it did as he sat down next to Ari across from the tree. He hadn’t realized how many questions and chats he’d wanted to have with Celeste til he was sitting there looking at the closest thing they had to a grave marker. The full moon was coming up and he’d skipped two. And he felt like just now he realized how few things he’d sorted out since, well, everything happened. What it meant that he was sitting next to a werewolf that he didn’t want to kill. And might actively try not to kill. Were his cheeks wet already? He quickly wiped them off, tried to make it subtle. “Hmm?” His head snapped to look at her, nearly missed she was talking, and then saw the knives. Right. He reached out for them and the leather bracelet fell down his wrist as he did. Reminders of her were all around. And he almost missed the chill down his spine as his fingers briefly touched the wolf’s skin, well, Ari’s skin. “No wolves, I know. Plus, they’re not even silv--” His stomach dropped like a pit as his eyes caught hers. “Sorry, uh, habits.” It was easier to talk to her when he could pretend there was no tension between what they were. Fuck, why did he even want there to be less tension? That wasn’t right. She was a werewolf, he was a hunter, this wasn’t complicated. Then he saw the tree in front of him. That was why. He looked the knives over, turning them to see the make, the balance, the feel. “Small monsters only, pro-- Well, maybe not that word. But you know what I mean.”

“I know,” Ariana responded quietly as she was overcome with a wave of emotion. Looking at Celeste’s tree, she tried her best to feel her presence there, but it just made the void in her feel more noticeable. All she wanted was to see Celeste sitting under the tree, with one of her many books, looking up as she approached with a warm smile on her face, but she’d never get that again. At least not in her waking moments. While she didn’t necessarily like seeing anyone sad, it was a comfort that Kaden missed her almost as much as she did. She liked to think Celeste would approve of this moment. This right here, was everything she stood for. Bringing two worlds together peacefully. If she could somehow cling on to that part of Kaden that wanted to do the right thing, maybe she’d be able to keep an important part of her sister alive. Was that a lot of pressure to put on someone trying to re-figure out their place in the world? Probably, but she needed this. She cringed slightly at the mention of silver, but shook it off. “It’s fine-- I don’t love it, but I trust you.” She gave him a meaningful look, her own eyes still misty. Maybe she was an idiot to trust him, but somehow it still wouldn’t be her dumbest decision recently. With a weak laugh, she retorted, “You’re good. Trying to get out of the habit of using that word myself.” A rustle off in the trees caught her attention and had the hairs on her arm standing at end. She didn’t smell an animal she recognized nearby and squinted to try and make out what was there. “Did you hear that,” she asked, still trying to make out the form before she saw it rapidly approaching. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking me right now.” 

Maybe you shouldn’t, is what Kaden nearly said, but he held his tongue, simply nodded. It was strange having her trust him. Well, maybe not that so much as he had no plans to use that trust against her. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The woods were where things made sense. But here, whenever he was around Ariana, everything just felt more confusing. She was an exception. That’s it. That’s what he told himself. But he had a feeling the more exceptions he made, the less they were exceptions and the more they were rules. And then what did that mean for him? For his codes? What did it mean when he went out on the full moon? If he hesitated-- Hell, he’d have to leave his fucking apartment on the full moon first. Maybe he was just a fucking defect of a hunter, just like Celeste. Maybe he should quit while he was fucking behind. But that felt wrong, too. All he could do was sigh, fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist, turning it round a few times over. “Good. You should. If you’re going to be dealing with this fae you mentioned before, you’d better be extra careful. Watch all your words. Every one of them.” Somehow he kept finding himself giving a shit about her. It was fucking stupid. Why not let the fae just get control of a werewolf? Who cared? Well if the fae was hurting humans and having a werewolf under their control would be bad, sure. But it was more than that. He shifted a little in his seat, like he could scoot away from the uncomfortable feeling of it all. “And you talk a lot so you’re going to have to be extra careful.” In the middle of wondering why in the fuck he knew that much about a werewolf, his brow furrowed and listened closely at her suggestion. “Something, yeah, but--” he couldn’t tell what it was. Just some rustling coming from across the way. But Ariana looked concerned. And considering what woods they were in, the town they lived in, she probably had a right to be. He took one look at the knives in his hand and with a shrug, gripped the one and got ready for whatever might be coming. Guess this was one way to test them out. A little sooner than he’d planned, though. 

As much as she appreciated Kaden’s warning, she didn’t get a chance to really think it over as there was an ugly monster charging right at them. Instinctively, Ariana jumped up from the ground and let out a low warning growl. Not daring to look away from the grotesque looking monster, she asked, “Do you know what the fuck that thing is? Because I don’t think it came here to make friends.” She dodged out of the way as it tried to pounce her and let out another snarl though it wasn’t nearly as scary when she was in her petite human frame. Her body was itching to turn into a wolf, but she took deep breaths and reminded herself she was with a hunter. Kaden had this under control, right? She reassured herself that the hunter could in fact handle whatever this was and she didn’t need to ruin her favorite pair of jeans for the sake of not becoming someone’s literal snack. 

Kaden was up on his feet and ready, facing the same direction as Ariana as a monster leapt out at them. For a moment, Kaden almost forgot who he was with; it almost didn’t occur to him that the growls and snarls were from her and not the long nosed winged monstrosity coming after them. Fuck. The distraction was just enough that he missed any opportunity for an attack and he dodged out of the way. He tried to catch a better glimpse at it while he regained his balance. “Don’t remember the name,” he said as he righted himself. “Pretty sure it’s a vampire, though.” There were entirely too many fucking weird specific types of undead bloodsuckers out there for him to recall them all by heart, especially when they weren’t his bread and butter by any fucking means. He tightened his grip around the knife, ready this time to get out of the way of the beast’s oncoming attack much more gracefully. The piece of shit had a long tongue and slime dripping off of its skin. “Putain de merde,” he called out as it hit him. “Watch the tongue, it's poison. And since I’m pretty fucking sure these knives aren’t ivory we either need to run or take its head off!” 

A vampire? That sure as hell didn’t look like any vampire Ariana had ever seen. Given, Carrington was the only vampire she’d ever met, but still. This thing was fucking ugly and she was increasingly annoyed that it was interrupting time that was meant for Celeste. “Fucking great,” she grumbled as she kept slowly backing away from the grotesque looking vampire. That long, pointed tongue was definitely giving her the wiggins. Kaden had a knife, he was a hunter. This was fine. No reason to feel threatened and wolf out in front of a werewolf hunter. Even if she trusted him, she felt uncomfortable at him seeing that side of her. Her eyes widened as he explained, “Poison tongue, what the fuck? We don’t exactly have an easy way to lob it’s head off-- I mean I could…” That thought was cut off by the thing charging toward Kaden again. “Watch out,” she shouted and realized she’d been too late in doing so. 

Kaden tried to dodge but this time, he was too slow. The monster reached out and grabbed a hold of his shoulders. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wriggled and wrtithed, trying to break from the vampire’s grips, but nothing was working. He watched as the tongue whipped around towards him. Kaden threw his head to the side, trying to throw his whole body and avoid it. He mostly did but it wasn’t enough. The vampire leaned in and licked a big, slobbery, slimy lick along the side of his neck and up his cheek. Kaden felt his stomach churn watching it, he wanted to turn to the side and heave out his dinner, but it was no longer the grip that was slowing him down. His eyes grew wider as he could feel his limbs start to lock up, no longer able to fight the beast that was hell bent on making him his meal. “Ari” he started to shout. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to tell her, run or help. It didn’t matter. His lips went numb and Kaden wasn’t even sure he could scream anymore. 

Panic overcame Ariana as the weird looking vampire pounced on Kaden and he seemed to be immobilized. He did say the things tongue was poison and it was clear to Ariana she needed to act quickly if she wanted to get both of them out of here alive. She let her fight instinct overcome her and her bones shifted into place. Growning. Making her bigger. Making her stronger. She kept the focus of saving Kaden in mind as she transformed to ensure she could keep herself under control. Her limbs elongated and became covered in white and gray fur. Claws extended. Snout grew outward and was already dripping with drool. A low warning growl escaped before she charged forward. Twigs broke underneath her paws and her teeth were sinking into the vampire as it was still distracted on its own meal. The wolf dragged the creature away from Kaden though it struggled underneath her teeth. It’s skin had been easy enough to bite into, but it had some fight in it. The wolf held on to Kaden’s previous words of taking the thing’s head off. She secured the monster with her claws pressing into its shoulder and took her bite to its neck. It was hardly a tasty meal, but it was a necessary one. The wolf was somewhat content as she took chunks out of the things neck as it squirmed under her grasp trying desperately to lick her too. The more she ate away at its neck, the less it thrashed beneath her. Only a few more bites of rotten flesh and they’d be safe. After what felt like too many more mouthfuls of vampire, the thing’s head finally rolled away from the body. 

The vampire had him, Kaden was helpless and stuck. Fuck, this was how he was going to die. He felt his flesh starting to almost sizzle, dissolving under the saliva of the monster and all he could do was blink. He tried to scream, but his throat wne tight. He shut his eyes, waiting for the end to come when his body felt lighter, His eyes flew open just in time to see the vampire yanked from off of him by a werewolf. Oh, fuck a goddamn werewolf on top of all of-- Shit. That was Ariana, wasn’t it? Kaden wanted to scream, run away, do anything, but he was still frozen in place. He tried with everything he had to throw his body out of the way of the fight, get as far from both of them as possible. He heard flesh tearing and bones crushing and he hoped like hell it was the monster and not the wolf. What was unfair is he could still feel the crawl down his spine letting him know there was, in fact, a werewolf nearby. One more sickening crunch and Kaden felt the tension in his body unleash, and the scream he was trying to push out, just exhaled out of him. Shaking, he tried to push himself up a little to see what had happened. Vampire was dead, no thanks to him, head torn off. And there was a white and grey werewolf, just like Ariana described herself. Kaden’s eyes were still wide with terror, unsure of what was going to happen next. Sure she’d saved him, but would she keep her control? Was he safe now or not? 

The sound of Kaden’s heart thudding against his chest was hard to ignore, but the familiar scent kept Ariana stable. Part of the fight instinct still felt on edge as she carefully watched Kaden moving again. She watched him carefully and channeled her energy to her more human thoughts. As the wolf relaxed, fur and claws retreated leaving a bare Ariana in its place. Her own breathing started to relax seeing the definitely detached head of the vampire on the ground. It left a strange, sour taste in her mouth that kept her nose scrunched up. She wiped some of the blood from her face and turned to Kaden. “You okay,” she asked as she examined him from afar. Once she came to the conclusion that he was in fact safe, she extended an arm and said, “I’m gonna need your jacket.”

Slowly, Kaden felt his muscles relax and his control come back. He also felt the pain, lots of pain. His hand gripped the knife as he watched the wolf intently. As she transformed back into herself, Kaden thought about flopping back onto the ground in relief. “Maybe,” he said, voice shaky and a little slurred, mouth still slightly numb. His brow furrowed when she asked for his jacket. Why was she asking for-- Then it hit him what he was looking at. Sure, Ariana was human again, or appeared human. She was also naked. And stil a fucking teenager. Fuck, gross, fucking hell. He turned away and shut his eyes. “Yeah, yeah hold on.” He ripped his jacket off as fast as he could, which was admittedly not fast due to the lingering tingling and slowness he felt all over. “Here,” he said, tossing it towards her, keeping his eyes fixed away from her. “Tell me when it’s safe.” Funny, that had a few meanings now.  

“I’m gonna take that as a not really,” Ariana retorted as it became more clear the effects of the venom were still very much present. It didn’t stop her from snatching his jacket away and being somewhat amused by his reaction. She’d been a wolf long enough that nudity was hardly uncomfortable for her and the last person who was going to be a creep about it was Kaden. The jacket was thankfully long on her and she closed it up enough that she was completely covered. “You’re safe,” she stated before she asked, “Are you able to like… stand though?” She looked over him, still concerned. Whatever kind of vampire that thing was, she hadn’t heard of it before and had no idea how long lasting the effects were. 

Once Ariana said the coast was clear, or, well, covered, Kaden tried to push himself up. He grit his teeth as his muscles wobbled and threatened to give out beneath him. “Fine, I’m fi--” He faltered a moment and felt his knees buckle out from under him. He stayed there for a moment, trying to gather the strength to stand. This was pathetic. What would have happened if he was there alone? He would have died, that’s what would have happened. Kaden inhaled deeply, taking one look at Celeste’s tree, and got to his feet, still shaky. “Uh, thanks for…” Kaden wasn’t able to say it. A werewolf hunter needing to be saved by a werewolf, it was too shameful. But Ari wasn’t really-- No. She was. She might have been Celeste’s sister, but she was and always would be a werewolf. Kaden would have to figure out how to feel about that later. “Do you-- can you help me balance?” His stomach churned, he hated being this vulnerable and needy. “Legs are still a little numb.” 

There was a small frown on her face as she watched Kaden struggle to get up. Ariana hoped the side effects weren’t long lasting. Hunters were supposed to have quick healing anyway. She raised an eyebrow as he said he was fine. He didn’t look fine, but she’d let him have his moment of being stubborn. After all, it was a trait she shared. She was only a little perturbed he couldn’t bring himself to thank her properly. As she rolled her eyes, she said, “For saving your life? Sure thing, fam.” The use of fam was more for her more amusement than anything else. She knew it was probably hard for a werewolf hunter to admit his ass just got saved by an actual werewolf. Once he asked for a hand, she reached out and helped pull him up. “Here,” she explained as she walked on her tip-toes so she could be tall enough to help him actually keep his balance, “I’ve got you. I’ll help you get home, but you’re totally ordering me some cheeseburgers to get the taste of actual death out of my mouth.”

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Friendship is Magic || Bea and Kaden

TIMING: Before poltergeist Lauren Langley and the scream LOCATION: The Vural’s House PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Just a wholesome good times

After their conversation, Bea had felt the need to invite Kaden over to simply let them get back into their normal routine. She didn’t like that he hadn’t felt supported, but she supposed it made sense. Her sisters had said the same thing after she had given them her opinion. She had texted him promising good wine and food if he came over to give her an opinion on some tricks she was working on for her show. She’d usually ask her sisters, but with how busy they had been, she was outsourcing. Once Kaden had arrived to the house, she had ushered him to her back porch, poured him a generous glass of wine, and sat him down in one of her comfy chairs. “I promise I’ll feed you after this, I just need you to tell me two things: Are my tricks entertaining and will people be able to clock it as real magic?” She wasn’t always the best at telling if she was being too showy.

Kaden hadn’t wanted to be mad at Bea, not even a little. He wasn’t even sure he was. Everything happening just made it feel like raw nerves were spindingling out of him right now and any emotional upheaval was a fucking mess for him to process. And Bea was safe. Deep down he knew it would be nearly impossible to push her away so she got him at his worst. Not what he wanted to do and part of him worried he’d been wrong and had gone too far. So the invitation was more than welcome. Something calm and simple at the Vural house felt a bit like a warm blanket and he was appreciative that Bea was always a soft place to land. Hard truths and all. In person was easier to remember that sometimes. “Don’t worry, I never doubt that with you,” he said with a smile. He gave her a nod as he leaned back in the chair, glass of wine in hand, one leg crossed over the other. “Alright, do your worst. You know you’re asking someone who grew up knowing magic was real his whole life, too, right?”

Bea had to laugh, it was true that no one went into the Vural house and left without having had been feed at least once. “I had to say it! I promised food and I intend to make good on that promise.” After she said it, she realized that promise was probably not the best way to phrase it. She knew she should probably start trying to phase out the word promise, but it had been apart of her vocabulary for long she struggled to find something to fill the void. “I know!” She laughed as she went down to the lawn,“But you’ll be able to tell me better than I can tell me. Hope you’re ready, ignore how I lit them, I’d do it differently on stage.” She grinned, picking up her fire fans. Usually, she would make a show lighting it with a pre-existing flame, but here she just simply snapped her fingers and each prong was ablaze in seconds. She spun them a few times before throwing it up in the air, using her magic to flare out the fire in a dazzling display of light. She caught both in one hand before gracefully moving into a single-handed cartwheel. Doing a few more tricks with her fans, she ended by waving them in front of her face before arching back to look at the sky and breathed fire. She shook her fans, the flames going out as she did. Grinning up at Kaden, she put a hand to her hip,“So? Good or too showy?”

“You know, not a huge fan of the word promise anymore,” Kaden said with a half smile. “But a promise of food is one I think I can get behind.” Honestly, it was so comforting to know that Regan had made him swear off promises to her. The only promise bind he’d ever be comfortable with. The real smile came when he watched his friend perform. She was a natural entertainer, which was sometimes hard to remember with how she was off stage. Not that she wasn’t personable or bland by any means, just she never seemed like the type to crave attention with any sort of desperation that he assumed was necessary to want to put yourself out there on stage like that. He clapped when she was done. He sat back, though, had a moment where he crossed his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. That was fine. But only two fans?” He shook his head in mock critique. “Better step it up, Bea. Or someone might take that top spot.” He dropped the act and leaned forward again. “Looked good, though. Really. The breathing fire, though. You think people will buy it?”

“Such a complicated thing now,” Bea agreed, thinking of the promise she made to Regan. She had to be so careful in the kitchen now, having no desire to deal with the consequences again. She’d have to ask Regan to release her, though that was much easier said than done, considering how the woman felt about the supernatural. She climbed the stairs again, leaning against the railing. “Thought I would ease the crowd into the fans, but I’m sure I could handle three if I really wanted,” She called back with easy confidence. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she would be doing bigger, flashier tricks if she was in Vegas. “Bold of anyone to try to take the top spot from the owner, I would love to meet a performer who thought they were better than me.” The thing was, she knew one day someone would show and be better than her and that’s what made her constantly evolve and get better. She wouldn’t let them take her spot easily. With his genuine question, she shrugged,”If we were in any other town, I would say yes, but here people know way too much. With a witch hunter around I have to be more careful than usual. Think I should just take it out to be safe?”

Complicated described a lot more in Kaden’s life than just the word promise. But he knew they both knew as much and didn’t need to hash everything out all over again. And for once, he’d like the focus of their conversations not to be his never ending list of fuck ups. “Really?” he said, shaking his head a little. “And here I thought I was just being an asshole.” He shrugged, his voice teasing again. “I don’t know. You might have a performer that can use four fans.” The smile on his face dissipated at her next statement. The witch hunter. His mouth pulled into a thin line.With everything going on, he’d almost forgotten about the fucking witch hunter. “Yeah, I’d play it safe. Maybe make it look like you’re spitting oil or whatever it is people do without real magic.” His stomach still churned at the thought of losing Bea at the hands of a witch hunter. It was crazy to him that someone would look at her and see someone so dangerous she was worth killing. Sure, she was powerful as hell, he’d seen her fry those leprechauns out there in the woods, but she had control of her magic. The logic just didn't track for him. “She hasn’t-- you and your sisters have been careful, right?” He knew he should change the subject, but he couldn’t shake his concern that quickly. Not after the fucking way his life had been tracking recently.

“Oh, don’t worry you’re always an asshole,” Bea teased back lightly. She liked these moments of easy friendship, where there was nothing particularly stressful happening and they could simply tease each other. “If a performer comes and can do four fans, they deserve the spot,” She told him with a slight laugh. It would be doubly impressive if they weren’t a spellcaster, but she doubted that someone would be as comfortable with fire if they weren’t. She frowned as he did, understanding her stumble quickly. She had lived with the reality of the witch hunter for longer than other people had and while she was worried, she tried not to dwell on it for too long. “That could work, plus people probably would know the smell with the oil.” As long as it looked like she took something into her mouth, it would work and she wouldn’t have to worry about the mess. She nodded at him, understanding the worry he felt. She felt it when her sisters mentioned doing something risky with their magic. “We’re as careful as we can be. Though, there’s not much we can do. I’m sure my sisters would love to just fight her and get it over with, but it doesn’t seem worth it to me.” She finally came to join him at the chairs, sitting across from him, and poured a glass of wine for herself. “Don’t worry about it for too long, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“You’re right,” Kaden said, returning the smile. “But don’t knock it too much. It’s my one true talent. I’m not big on the fan twirling, you know.” He nodded, hoping her trick with the oil would be enough to throw someone off her tracks. It was hard to know for sure if it would be enough to fool someone like him or her, someone who had never questioned the existence of magic, but it was better than nothing. Just had to hope most people who knew about magic didn’t care and didn’t try to exploit her. Or worse. It’s odd, he hadn’t exactly assessed the dangers of what she did before then. It all seemed like such a logical path to take. Guess everything had its risks. “I’d just rather none of you gets hurt. Whatever that takes,” he said with a shrug. Killing her was his preference but it shouldn’t have surprised him that Bea was far more relaxed about it. Hell, she had decided to be his friend immediately after he tried to kill her. He should have known by now how often she let things lie as long as the people she cared about weren’t directly in harm’s way. He didn’t realize how deeply his forehead had creased until she spoke again. He rolled his eyes and shook it off. “Sorry I want to make sure my friend doesn’t die. I mean, come on, I’m the only one that’s allowed to try and off you. I called dibs.” In the absence of talking, his mind drifted to Regan and their last conversation about her. Part of him felt like he should apologize. For real. Most of him wanted to let it lie. With a sigh, he looked down at his drink and tried to think about what his friend might appreciate more. “I’m sorry. For the other day. We don’t have to drag it up again but, uh, I mean it.” He looked back up at her, hoping she got that this wasn’t that easy for him to admit. “Even though this really is your fault, after all. For being friends with an idiot.”

“I bet you’d have an easy time learning with all your hunter instincts and all.” Bea was curious to see how well a hunter would do with things like this. It wouldn’t be as smooth as a performer’s attempt, but she had to assume that a hunter would take to it easier than a normal person. She understood her sisters’ wish for blood, but she had no desire to bring more attention to them if the witch hunter wasn’t looking at them already. “Whatever that takes is a dangerous phrase,” She said lightly, though she understood the sentiment. She’d do whatever it took to keep her sisters safe, even if it meant taking a path she didn’t think was necessarily the best. “I’m sure the witch hunter will respect your dibs on taking me out. You should make sure everyone knows you have dibs on my sisters too, so they won’t mess with them either.” She took a sip of her wine, thinking over how normal this was to her. She knew that to humans without power this was a wild conversation to have, but compared to fighting leprechauns and putting silver in her coffee this was one of the most normal nights she had with Kaden. She watched him then, as he apologized, and in a strange way she saw herself reflected back. Apologizing was hard, especially when it was something as emotionally charged as this. “Thank you,” She told him simply. There was nothing more to say that wouldn’t drag up the conversation again. “I happen to like being friends with idiots. It really boosts my self confidence,” She teased.

Kaden made a face like he tasted something bad at the thought of him twirling fans in any capacity. “I doubt that. Shooting things and stabbing things are pretty different from cartwheels and fan dances.” He downed a decent bit of wine at the thought. “You’d have to get me very drunk to try that shit. Or I’d have to lose a game of truth or dare. Something stupid.” Some part of him suspected he just gave Bea some ammunition against him to get him to try. Still never going to fucking happen. Over his dead body. “Maybe,” he said with a shrug. Dangerous, sure. Accurate? Yeah. There were a handful of people he was pretty sure he’d go to the ends of the earth to help out. Not sure when that happened but it didn’t matter how much he questioned it or tried to deny it; it was still true. And Bea was on that list. Simple enough. He could handle it all as long as it felt like facts and not feelings. “I’ll make sure I spread the word. The Vural’s are my mark and no one else gets them. That will definitely not raise any questions with hunters of any background when they see you’re all still walking around.” It was always strange how they could find themselves talking about the darkest subject with no gravity around it. It was the things that should be simple that got him landed with her hard truths. “Glad I can help, then” he said with a wry smile. “I still owe you that French cooking lesson, right?”

“Well, you wouldn’t look as good as I do, but you know how to use your body and that’s more than plenty of people can say,” Bea replied, ending with a sip of wine. Body control was so important to what she did and she knew that all the hunters had pretty good control of the body. Though, she would love to see Kaden and the other hunters trying to keep up with her cartwheels. “I know your maybes mean yes, Kaden. It is dangerous and I feel like we all put ourselves in too much danger to add this onto the list.” She had no idea why she continually collected people who enjoyed doing things that would eventually kill them, but she was sure between Kaden and her sisters she was going to have gray hair very early. “We’re like your freebie. No one else can do anything because we’re with you.” Bea was rather confident that the other hunters in town liked her enough not to mess with her unless she really did something bad. Being a spellcaster was a great thing in the supernatural world, unbothered by hunters and considered rather helpful at times. They were the epitome supernatural privilege. “Yes! You do. I’ve had to learn all my french cooking on my own without any help!” She told him with a dramatic flare to her voice.

“I’m surprisingly uncoordinated, actually.” Kaden pulled his mouth in a thin line for a moment. Hand to hand combat wasn’t his strength for that reason and it was something he had to constantly work on in training when he was younger, even now. Remembering his past stung a little. It seemed to more and more lately, the more he started questioning things. Kaden realized he got a little lost in thought, probably had a stupidly serious look on his face or some shit. He raised his brows and loosened his expression, trying to clean the slate outside and in. This was a nice normal night with a friend. Not deep introspective bullshit night. “It doesn't always mean yes. But I mean, half my life is running into danger head first,” he said with a shrug. “Not sure I’d know what to do if my life was boring and easy.” It was something he’d said to himself for years and years now, but more often than not he felt a pang of… something when he said it. Longing? Sadness? Who the fuck knew. There was no retiring from hunting in his mind. No erasing everything he knew about the world from his memory. Why waste time wishing for the impossible? “Hmm, you’re right. But I’ve got Regan on my list of freebies, too. And a few others. List’s getting too long, I don’t know. I think my reputation at the Bullet is going to go down the drain.” He said it with a smirk in a joking manner, sure, but there was entirely too much truth to that for him to be comfortable. Maybe best to switch the subject. “Truly shameful. French cooking without a single French person around. You ought to know better.”

Bea scoffed at him, her face pulling into an expression that screamed that’s bullshit. “Whenever you don’t want to say yes because you don’t think someone will react well, you say maybe. Every time.” Reading Kaden was something she was getting better at throughout their friendship and she was sure that he was getting better at reading her. “Even without being a hunter, you would find a way to make your life dangerous, I can just tell,” She teased lightly. Though, she knew that his life would be very different if he hadn’t been raised a hunter, just like her life would be completely changed if she hadn’t been raised a witch. Their identities were so controlled by how they were raised that it was hard to imagine how different things would be without the way they were raised. “Wow, the Vurals aren’t your only? How will we survive?” She asked, turning her face toward the sky in a mock cry. She looked back at him with a wicked grin,“Though you could probably just tell them that we will literally melt their faces off, maybe that would make them back off.” She doubted a witch hunter would end the hunt at that threat, if anything it would spur them on, but she enjoyed the idea. She narrowed her eyes at him,“Someone has been busy and I had to do it on my own, but since you’re here now… You could always show me some tips now.”

“May--” Kaden started and quickly tried to correct himself “I mean, I do not! Fuck.” It was almost annoying that she could read him like an open book sometimes. Almost. He always thought he was less transparent than that but having friends who gave a shit beyond “how was your last kill” proved him wrong. He huffed out a laugh at her jab. “That’s only because I’m the idiot who comes running whenever someone calls on me for help. Come on, it’s not like I go thrill seeking. Imagine the nice quiet life I’d have if no one ever got into trouble.” Right. He was pretty sure he didn’t make friends with anyone who didn’t get into trouble on a regular basis. So that was never going to happen. “Yeah, that might do it. It’s kept me from contemplating a few marks before, that’s for sure.” He felt an instant pit in his gut thinking of Ricky as a mark. It sounded wrong now, even in jest. Calling him a friend felt wrong, too, sure. But all the same. “Don’t blame me. It is not just me who’s been busy, owner of her own theater and top billed performer,” he joked. “But yeah, we can do it now. I’m sure you have enough to make a good velouté or béchamel sauce. If you want.”

Bea let out a loud laugh as he struggled to keep himself from saying maybe. “You do and you just don’t want to admit I’m right!” She wouldn’t say that she was the best at observing other people, at least not compared to her sisters, but she would claim that she was good at understanding her friends' emotions. She let out another laugh into her glass before she took a sip,“You only make friends with trouble makers. I’m probably the least trouble makery of your friends and that’s saying something.” Most of the trouble Bea ended up in she would blame her sisters for, but she knew there were certainly times she stuck her nose too far into other people’s business and got involved with less than savory things. “It’s not my fault that my talents demand me to be on the stage and run the behind scenes too! Really the show would not be the same if I wasn’t my own boss.” She grinned at him widely and stood then,“Off to the kitchen then?”

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Faetal Facts || Deirdre and Kaden

LOCATION: Strawford Park TIMING: Before the full moon nonsense PARTIES: @deathduty and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: How to care for your banshee 101

The last person Kaden wanted to stop by and see was Deirdre. His car was all packed and ready for him to just go straight to the woods after this. Spend some time in nature, just him and Abel, away from fucking everyone. Figure out what the fuck he wanted to do. But before he got to do that, he had questions. Lots of questions. Questions about fae and banshees that he knew Regan couldn’t answer, not if she wouldn’t admit there was no fixing this. It occurred to him that meeting a banshee who hated him in a graveyard probably wasn’t this best idea but he was too tired to care or argue. “Deirdre,” he said as he saw her standing on the crest of a hill in between headstones. Part of him considered just walking away. Maybe it was better if he didn’t know. Instead he huffed out a small sight and leaned against one of the taller monuments, not meeting her eye to eye just yet. “I know. About--” He still couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet, not to her. Tears were already pricking his eyes thinking about it. Shit. He didn’t want her to see him this fucking vulnerable already. Too late. He knew they mentioned being there sober, but he was getting the feeling that flask he’d brought with him was the only smart decision he’d made today.

Between two graves, at the top of a hill, Deirdre looked out over Strawford; gravestones that marked the land in even rows and columns. There was a peace in the space between them, a peace Deirdre once knew much better--a peace she missed. The sight of Kaden approaching her broke the serenity, and she had to hold back a laugh. She would have thought he’d learned his lesson about approaching Deirdre while she had higher ground. Was a being pushed down a hill so much different from a flight of stairs? But in seeing the pain that tore across his features, she felt an odd pang of sympathy. And with it, she held her joke. Her own eyes were red, and ringed with a lack of sleep. She didn’t look much better than he did, which was an insulting enough thought. “About…?” Deirdre tilted her head. “I know Morgan told you about…” She trailed off, that couldn’t have been what was bothering him. “Cigarette?” She held out her hand. “I know you smoke. Do you happen to have one? For me. I mean. I want one. First. And then you go explain why you look like a dejected dog.”

His brow furrowed as she mentioned Morgan. Huh Kaden thought it would be obvious. “Yeah, I know about that, too.” He reached into his jacket pocket for the pack he had on him, pushed past the flask for them. “I meant about Regan. I know.” He pulled out two cigarettes, one for her and one for him. “Dejected dog? You’re going soft on me.” He took a quick look over at her. “Look a little rough yourself.” He’d ask why but that would involve caring. A heavy breath escaped from his lips as he shook his head slightly. This was fucking surreal. All of it. “Anyway. Banshee, right? She, uh… showed me the wings.” He could feel his throat choking as he held out the light for her. Was that the first time he said it aloud? Probably. After she took it, he shuffled the pack back into its home inside his pocket and fumbled around before fishing out the lighter. God, he had so many things he wanted to know but he needed a little longer before he could bring himself to speak them. He lit his own cigarette before handing her the lighter. Drew in a deep breath of nicotine, held it, and then slowly let it out. It helped. A little. Guess she had good ideas sometimes. “I guess it’s pretty obvious how little I know about them. Uh, you. ...her.”

Deirdre took the cigarette, holding it curiously in her hand. Though she had smoked once or twice before, the very things were an affront to her family and heritage. Deirdre, your lungs are a gift, she could almost hear her mother’s voice, your body is not your own. “I’m going soft. Period.” She replied bitterly, sticking the cigarette in her mouth and waiting for him to fetch the lighter. Her mother would hate this, her mother would hate a lot of things. “Regan…” she breathed, taking the lighter as he finally offered it over, lighting her cigarette before she handed it back. She drew in a slow breath, and expelled it even slower. “Yes, banshee. Congratulations on finally learning what half this town seems to already know. If the death-appreciation, Irish heritage and cold skin couldn’t help you, I’m so happy those wings did.” She made no efforts to mask her distaste. She had tried to break them up, she had tried to avoid this outcome and most of all she had tried to tell Regan who she was. Now, just as she predicted, someone had come back to grovel for information...except it wasn’t who she expected it to be. “What do you want, Kaden? Did you come here to ask me questions about banshees? So you could...what? Hurt her?” Deirdre paused, “help her?”

There was the smug attitude Kaden hated so much. It would have almost been comforting if it wasn’t so fucking annoying. “You’re right. I’m an idiot. By all means tell me something I don’t fucking know.” He kicked a small pebble near his foot and watched it roll down the hill. She had to know as much as he did just how desperately he didn’t want to see the signs; didn’t want to put the pieces together. Then again, maybe not. She thought so little of him. “Hurt her?” he spat, turning to look at her. He huffed and shook his head. “You’re smarter than that. If I wanted to hurt her, I would have done it already. I wouldn’t be bothering with you.” He bit the inside of his lip to hold back tears at the word help. Fucking help her. He’d tried. And he’d failed at that just as much as he failed at living up to his duty to rid the world of supernaturals. Maybe more. “I don’t think I can help her. I mean, I wish-- I tried.” A lump formed in the back of his throat. He tried to push away the image of her on the floor sobbing the other night. “I just need to understand. What she is. If I--” If he what? Wanted to try to be with her? He still wasn’t sure that was possible. But he wasn’t about to weigh the options without any understanding of what he was getting into. He sniffed. He wasn’t completely sure what he was asking anymore. “Look, I don’t know what I want to do yet. That’s why I’m here. But I’m not going to hurt her.”

Then she was laughing suddenly, she couldn’t help it. There was something about this that was so pathetically familiar and Deirdre couldn’t help but to laugh. So he did love her. Deirdre could tell he hadn’t hurt Regan by the lack of Blanche screaming in her inbox. And the only answer as to why was that funny word ‘love’. Horrible thing. Poor, pathetic, Kaden, victim to feelings he probably didn’t think existed---feelings he probably didn’t think he deserved to have. Why was that so familiar? She took a slow drag of her cigarette. “Information doesn’t come for free, Kady.” She whistled out smoke from her nose. “If you want me to talk, I want a promise first and...as it happens…” Her arrogance fell, her body, a victim to love itself, conceded. “I want you to promise not to physically harm Regan and…” she swallowed, “...not to hurt Morgan either. Not to...go tell Alain what she is so he can---” the thought alone rendered a sob through her. She brought the cigarette to her lips again. His conundrum was the same because she’d gone through it too, was going through it still. “Are you sure? You know you can’t love someone if you think they’re a monster, Kaden. And you know that if you choose this, choose to go back, help her--love her--whatever it is...in some way...you turn your back on what you were raised to be. And it’s good, in a way, but life becomes a lot more complicated than ‘supernatural bad, human good’.” Deirdre sighed, “I ask you, Kaden, that if you really want to talk to me about what banshees are, and if you truly have no intentions to harm Regan...then you understand what you’re doing. What you’d be admitting to me. To yourself. Is it something you’re prepared to do?”

The laughter stung, even if it was coming from Deirdre, one of the single last people whose opinion on him he carried in any sort of regard. Kaden pushed it away with another slow puff of smoke from his cigarette. Of course she wanted a fucking promise. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted her. He was about to throw the light to the ground and stomp off when he caught a glance of her, vulnerable, breaking... and talking about Morgan? His brow ceased, trying to put the pieces together. Morgan protecting Deirdre; Deirdre protecting her. He knew they’d both mentioned girlfriends. Could it be? His head tilted slowly as he looked at her, and then his head shook a moment. “You fell for a human.” He huffed out a laugh and took a long draw of smoke. “That’s funny. Granted I guess that’s not the case anymore but still. Funny. I thought fae hated humans. Correct me if I’m wrong. That’s been happening a lot lately. Wouldn’t take it personally.” He let out a deep breath. “I’m not making you those promises, though. I don’t need your shitty fae magic to give me nausea at the thought of hurting Regan or killing what I assume is your girlfriend. That happens all by itself. Cause I fucked up.” He really wished he could find the moment he’d started caring and just nip that in the bud then and there. “I don’t plan on telling Alain. Or any other slayer. So long as I don’t see her going on a full on rampage eating brains in the streets. I don’t want to lose my friend. Can you just trust that?”

One last breath and the cigarette was already down to the filter. Kaden threw the butt to the ground and stomped it out beneath his heel. At the word “love” he froze, heel twisted halfway out. Love? That was-- big word. Huge word. A word he hadn’t let himself think let alone dare speak out loud. He felt a pit drop in his stomach. Love. Commitment. That was all so foreign to him. He hadn’t even let himself consider if that’s what he wanted, what he was doing, let alone rejecting it. What the fuck did love even feel like? Did it lead to this much fucking pain? Putain, maybe he didn’t want that. And here he was all the same. “I, uh… you said love, I don’t-- I don’t know…” Fuck he was going to need another cigarette if that’s how this was going to go. Or the flask. “Look I haven’t even told that’s what it-- I mean if that’s how I f--” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “If I’m saying that word, the first person who’s hearing it is Regan, not you.” Yeah time for another fucking cigarette. “But yeah, I know what it means. Really fucking do. My mother-- her ghost. She made that damn clear the other night.” Not that he needed her to, he'd know either way.

Deirdre flinched, she stared back at him with wide eyes and a tense jaw. It wasn’t much of a secret, but logic meant nothing to the kind of panic it set in her. She turned her gaze, finding more peace in the less judgemental blades of grass. So he figured that out quicker than he could realize his girlfriend was a banshee? “And you fell for a so-called monster. But if there’s anyone who knows something about failure in this way...it’s me, Kaden. Believe it or not, I tried not to like her as much as I could.” And yet she still did, and while Kaden didn’t know Regan was fae, a relationship itself must have been a violation of duty too--. She lifted her head up. “How can I trust you?” Her voice turned soft and her eyes pleading. His expression wasn’t particularly dishonest, but that hardly mattered. “You’re right about fae, about fae like me, at least. We don’t like humans. We don’t trust them. One guess which type we trust the least.” She turned back to the grass, expelling another stream of smoke. She left the cursed thing burning between her fingers for a moment. “I don’t want to lose her again, lose the only thing I can say without question has been good in my life…” she sighed, “I think you can understand the feeling.” A promise would have been nice, would have calmed the fear that curled around her insides. She should have known better than to be granted that one gift from a human like Kaden.

She watched him stomp his cigarette, leaving the butt there. Strange how a man so uncaring about the world could love; strange that he could crush a cigarette under his feet and leave the remains there to mar the earth but not admit he loved a woman. “Whatever it is,” Deirdre took a slow drag of hers, nearly done, clearly more savored than Kaden’s, “you have a choice to make. And if some part of you thinks you can still be the good hunter you were born to and love a monster by all accounts you should hate...you’re wrong. You have to make your choice, Kaden. It’s not too late to go run back, pretend like the fae seduced you with her wiles. Isn’t that what fae do? No one would blame you. Your mother might be happy enough to go off to the otherside. Finally, her son is the hunter he’s meant to be.” She paused, “or you could go chase the thing that makes you happy, you can figure out how to reconcile your past with the future you want. You go tell Regan that her wings are beautiful--because I’m sure they are. You tell her that whatever is happening to her, you’re okay with it. Maybe you get her to understand that she’s not human, and you show her that’s okay. But you can’t do any of that if you still think she’s some creature. You know that, Kaden. She won’t appreciate all that you’d be giving up to be with her properly, no one will. They don’t really understand what it’s like to be born one way, and find you want to live in another.” She crushed her cigarette against a gravestone, holding the litter in her hand. “You were meant to be alone. We both were. That’s the kind of thing we were born to do. But you’re happy with her...and you can have a life that isn’t so lonely anymore. You can be more than the murderer you were born to be. But that starts here, starts with accepting I’m not a monster either. If you’re prepared to do that, Kaden. If you understand what I’m saying…you may ask me whatever you’d like.” She paused, “I’m sorry about your mother. At least you’re just disappointing a ghost.”

It was hard not to just bristle up and dismiss everything she was saying, not listen. Kaden told himself that was because it wasn’t what she was saying, it was who was saying it. Every part of him still wanted to just push her words away out of his mind. He came here for what he thought was simple information on banshees that he hoped could help him make a better, clearer decision. Instead he was getting this. Finding out they might have similarities. It felt wholly wrong. But somehow she just kept hitting the nail on the head about him. It was harder and harder to deny. He lit his second cigarette and thought for a moment. How could she trust him?  Fair enough question. He barely trusted her. But he didn’t want his decisions to be bound by fae magic. That-- it felt wrong. Like they weren’t his anymore. And he wasn’t here to make Deirdre feel better. “Well, Morgan was stupid enough to trust me,” he said, his voice smaller. “And she read me like an open book. So maybe trust your girlfriend’s judgement,” he said with a small shrug. It was strange to admit some of these people in this town might have a better idea on who he was than he did but somehow it just kept happening.

And as she kept talking, it happened all over again. It was like she was voicing his inner thoughts. Every single one of them. Out loud and so painfully real that way. She had a point. Kaden could just cut and run. Call this a failed experiment. But the thought of that cut him to the core. That meant never spending time with Regan the same way ever again. Maybe never getting to feel that small slice of happiness he felt around her. Then again, that was still tenuous, wasn’t it? Wings were hardly the last hurdle they had to jump. And of fucking course Deirdre thought they were beautiful. He wondered if she had her own, hidden behind a glamour. It was strange to think as human as she looked standing next to him, that might not be her true form. But he was so sure there was nothing more Regan had to hide from him. Maybe not. That uncertainty still made his stomach drop. But still, he was having so much trouble conjuring ways to make that matter. Her eyes flashed into his mind, the last time he’d looked at them. Still her, after all that. Was it worth giving that up for a calling that kept cracking at the seams every time he turned around? He took a deep draw of the nicotine, let it out slow and steady, mulling her words over in his head. “You really think we get to be happy?” It wasn’t something he’d ever really considered so much because he’d tricked himself into thinking that he had been. This whole time. He knew who he was, what he did, and that was fine. Killing monsters was all the satisfaction he needed in life. That had been happiness. Until he opened the door to alternate possibilities and everything got more complicated. As evidenced by the fact he was standing in a cemetery talking to a banshee about his fae girlfriend who didn’t think she was fae. Putain.  “I… I think I understand, though. I just, I need to know. The scream? I’ve always been told it causes death. I-- If…” If he knew Regan was a threat to humanity, that, god it would hurt. But he had to know. He had to. He could sacrifice some morals for selfish reasons but the line had to be drawn somewhere. “But like I said, my track record for what I’ve gotten right and wrong seems to be stacking up lately in favor of fucking incorrect. So you tell me. Do banshees really bring death and pain in their fucking wake? How doomed am I?”

“She’s stupid enough to trust a lot of things. I imagine that’s how hope works. But she’s been wrong before, she died that way.” Deirdre breathed, closing her eyes. She’d first gotten lost talking to Morgan over how stupid she thought her judgements were, and bold-faced, Morgan told her that she didn’t care--that there was nothing else for her to do but hold on to those stupid judgements. “I was a stupid judgement too.” She opened her eyes and smiled gently. “How kind of you to turn that around. I wouldn’t be trusting her, I’d be trusting you. You and I both know how wrong hope can be. You won’t give me a promise; that’s fine. Understand your life is forfeit if something happens to her. I don’t care how much Regan likes you, I won’t let you live if you prove Morgan wrong.” And unlike threats of the past, there was no anger held in her words, no hint of a joke that only she found funny---she meant every word with her heart just as true as her love was. She held her hand out, “give me another cigarette.” If she was committing acts of treason, it felt right to defile the temple of her lungs again. “People like us? I didn’t. I told Morgan as such over and over again, and she said we had to be born for more than that. That people were alive to do more than break. All I know is that I am happy with her, I can’t deny that. And you are happy with Regan. That---” She gestured haphazardly. “--other stuff isn’t...isn’t happiness like this. I know. I told myself it was too. A purpose, maybe, but it’s not a happy one. It can’t be, if the truth is you’re happier the moments you’re not doing it---the moments you feel like you’re worth more than the carnage you were born into.”

And Deirdre couldn’t help the laugh that left her again as he asked his question. Wasn’t it funny how hunters did that? Did they have to tell themselves these people they killed were monsters just so they could sleep at night? Did they have to invent tales of evil just to make it fair? “No. We don’t. We’re seers, that’s it. We see death before it occurs, we scream when fate has made its call. We do not cause it.” Deirdre shook her head, “she’ll never harm anyone more than some hearing damage and whatever flying glass does.” She purposely neglected to explain how powerful the scream could be, and the breadth of effects it could cause--in this case, as much as she hated it, it was probably better to up-sell how benign they could be. “We’re drawn to death, sometimes to places it has not yet touched. I couldn’t tell you if some part of me liking Morgan had to do with her eventually dying, it becomes hard to separate. We do not carry anything with us, Kaden. Moths to a flame, that’s all we really are.” She broke out into a lopsided smile, “aren’t we all a little doomed though? If you die early, it won’t be Regan’s fault. And for this, you’ll just have to be stupid enough to trust me.”

Oddly enough, Kaden didn’t have too much trouble believing that what he’d been told about banshees had been more than a little colored. His family was far more versed in beasts first, vampires and the undead second, and fae fell to the wayside, left for the warren families to study and deal with. He knew the broad strokes but details, well, clearly those were fuzzy. Still, part of it almost felt like she was trying to comfort him, ease into the idea that maybe this was fine. Then again, he glanced over and remembered who he was talking to. Right, she wasn’t about to sugar coat shit for him. At least he could trust that. He gave her a contemplative nod as he let out another puff of smoke, it was all he could manage after all that. She was the expert after all. “She’ll know though, won’t she?” It just hit him, then and there. They’d both know, wouldn’t they? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that. Ever. Guess it was too fucking late for that. Putain. “But, uh, why is this-- I thought you were born fae. You can’t become one. Why didn’t iron-- I mean, I tested. When we first started dating. And her skin, pulse, you know. And I know she didn’t always have wings. It changed. After… How?”  

“Hm. She’ll know, I suppose. She might not be trained enough to properly decipher it, but she’ll know. I’ll know, and I’ll replay your death happily in my head.” Deirdre smiled, for once, intending her words of his (fortunate) end to be light-hearted. Not that she could be sure she came across that way. “We are. She was still promise-binding and stealing names every which way...but fae grow into their traits. For most, this simply takes age. For banshees, there are a certain set of circumstances that trigger it.” And Kaden was a fool if he thought Deirdre would suddenly spill coveted banshee secrets to him---even if some were probably in every warden book out there. “It happened to me when I was eight.” A fact she normally held with such pride, she now spoke matter-of-factly. “I’ll let you take a guess what causes it. But she is a full banshee now, there’s no going back for her. No way to get rid of her wings, no way to warm her skin or make her heart beat any faster or stop the way iron suddenly burns.” Deirdre sighed, “the only thing that’ll really help her now is accepting she’s not human. And you Kaden, have to be prepared to tell her that doesn’t make her...lesser.” Something he really couldn’t do if he still thought of them as monsters. He wouldn’t lie to her twice, would he? “Anything else?” She asked.  

“Hope it’s at least entertaining for you.” Some things never changed. Small comfort in that, he guessed. Still, his brow creased as Kaden tried to get a clearer picture of the puzzle, connect the dots he didn’t want to piece together before now. The name stealing, promise scares she’d had, of course it had been her. Blaming Deirdre, the mimes, it had been easier. And safer. Not unlike that promise bind she wanted earlier. There was no doubt what had triggered Regan’s change, though. The death of her father. It had to be. The timing, even he’d figured that one out long before he was willing to admit the truth. For a moment, he wanted to tell Deirdre he was sorry. Ask if it was hard for her, too, when it happened. Something about her, though, it felt like she took pity about as well as he did. Nothing pissed him off more than that look people gave him when they found out about his childhood and how much it differed from theirs. Like they were better than him. So he let it lie. And listened.  

Tears pricked his eyes as she confirmed everything Kaden already knew. “Yeah. I-- I know. She’s not--” His “human” girlfriend was gone. Forever. Not that she ever was. Stil, it hurt knowing how much he wanted it not to be true. Knowing how much she wanted it not to be true. Knowing she’d never feel warm next to him ever again, he’d always have to wonder if she was still breathing in the middle of night. And he had a feeling he knew what caused the lightbulb casualties now. He bit the inside of his lip as the lump in his throat returned. “That’s uh... That was the main thing. I wanted to...” He swallowed back the new wave of hurt. “Thanks. For. You know. I just, I couldn’t… Not without knowing how it all...”

“Oh, It will be,” Deirdre grinned. Though, the happy expression didn’t last. She glanced over at him curiously, he seemed...not as happy about confirming his girlfriend was a banshee as Deirdre would be. But she could understand some part of it, she thought. Morgan had gone from human to zombie. The differences between them laid in the fact Deirdre never saw one as better than the other--she wouldn’t allow herself to. How cruel would that be? Weighing pros and cons when the simple truth that she loved Morgan was more than enough. It didn’t matter, exactly, what she was. The difference between them had to be that: she fell in love knowing who Morgan was, completely, facing the fact she was human and accepting that she loved her despite it. She took no space to mourn, knowing it didn’t matter in the end; Morgan would always be Morgan. Deirdre let silence wash between them, giving Kaden his space to mourn where she couldn’t. “Regardless of what you think about the cold skin and the slow pulse…” she frowned, “you can’t let her think it’s terrible, Kaden. You--what if she hated herself? You wouldn’t---You can’t want that for her. Regardless of what you think. It’s not...it’s not all bad, being this way. It’s good. It can be good. It can be even better if you’re there with her.” She sighed again, looking out over the horizon. “You’re welcome, Kaden. You know, I’d recommend you swing by that supernatural sex store...” Deirdre turned back to him and smirked. “I’ve heard some things about banshee gags.”