#imagine hazel as howl (not in personalities

[rowanrowlandridley]

i can't stop thinking about that howl's moving castle au but like "hazel's moving castle"¿¿?? idk i wanna draw it so badly but it is final exams season at college, so-

the characters (pjo/hoo) won't have the same personalities as the hmc characters i know, i just love the concept.

[wordsrequired]

• when elain needed reassurance and ease into this new situation she wasn’t familiar with, azriel was there:

Elain said “It’s all very disorienting.” “I can imagine,”Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.

.. and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”

• when elain was about to be introduced to her new home as a new being, azriel was there:

Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms.

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.

Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face.
Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?”

• when elain was lost and they were trying to find a way to make her feel better, azriel was there:

“Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing from his fingers as he extended a hand.

• when no one could understand her behavior and her powers, azriel was the one who did:

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly.

”We’re the ones who need …’ Azriel trailed off. “A seer” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

• when elain was taken, azriel was the first person who noticed her missing:

But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?” Something cold went through me.

• when elain needed saving, azriel was the one ready to die to save her:

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.”

Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.

Nesta said, “Then you will die.”

Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

• when elain was in chains, azriel was bleeding and really wounded but the first thing he thought was freeing her, thinking about what she needed first:

Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.

• when elain needed a weapon to defend herself and azriel gave her his most prized possession, the dagger that never failed him and he never let anyone touch:

“This is Truth-Teller” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“It has never failed me once” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade. Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

• even in the smallest, irrelevant things, anytime elain needed help azriel was there:

But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

• when elain was upset cause she understood that there was no way of going back to how it was, azriel was there to lighten her up:

“I’d feel bad for the mice” Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

• when elain needed someone to talk, azriel was there even for things he may be not interested in but that make her happy:

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.

• when elain was insulted and hurt, azriel’s shadows were ready to strike in her defense:

“Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.

• even when he just hears elain laugh, azriel is there to wonder what caused it:

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

azriel has literally been with elain in every step and moment of her journey since the beginning. from the most important and key moments to the smallest details. he was the one who had every answer, he was the answer, he was the one who understood, he was the only one who saw her. *ugh*

[starlightshadowsworld]

I love the idea of the Roman demigods possessing different abilities and domains than their Greek counterparts.

Helps to differ between them and is just cool.

Like Hazel and Nico. One has power over riches and the other the dead.

With that in mind, I like to imagine Jason having abilities linked to hospitality and justice.

As among many other things they are two of Zeus/Jupiter's titles.

Hospitality is such an important thing in Greco-Roman myths.

I mean breaking it got Tantalus sent to Tartarus.

Depending on which iteration you read, he either stole from the God's or he killed his son and served him to them.

Yikes.

And it just... makes sense with who he is, Jason is a fair person who's fatal flaw is to hear both sides before making a decision.

Before passing judgement.

As well as his role as Praetor who while a strong hero would also need to be a good diplomatic and dealing with issues at camp.

Jason also has a strong moral code and tries to follow the rules and keep his promises to the best of his ability.

Only breaking them when they conflict with his moral code.

Such as speaking out against his father infront of the Olympian council when he deemed his decisions unwise.

Also, I absolutely believe Lupa blessed Jason. Because he was a toddler when she nabbed him, had to make sure he'd survive.

Making him of the wild and connected to the earth.

I think his powers would be similiar to that of a fae.

Being able to make an unclaimed area into his own and those around him bound by the laws of hospitality.

Aka be a damn good house guest.

And once they break those rules, he can go absolutely feral.

Names are important in this universe and I can see Jason using that to his advantage.

Perhaps being able to control someone once they (while boasting) give him their names.

And with Lupas blessing, be physically stronger than normal, heightened senses etc.

The limitations being that because of his rather unique abilities, Jason can't lie at least not directly.

He can't make a decision unless he's heard and weighed all the outcomes.

And his powers aren't exactly the best thing in a fight.

Having the urge to howl at the moon.

But Jason is a strategiest and was trained by Lupa and raised by Camp Jupiter.

He was able to beat the Titan Krios with his powers yes but also his swordsmanship.

His abilities are part of the reason his father doesn't like him.

As King, Jupiter is basically the head of the household, and Jason speaking out against him, to Jupiter feels like a threat against him and his position.

That and the whole theme of father's overthrowing their sons. And Jupiter just... Doesn't like him.

Jason wouldn't overthrow anyone. He just wants a family and friends to love and look after.

👏🏼Let 👏🏼 Hestia 👏🏼 train 👏🏼 him 👏🏼

What makes Jason so scary is that despite his parentage he seems so unassuming.

When Percy smiles you know troubles coming. Thalia's eyes flash in warning, Nico is shrouded in darkness.

Jason smiles, invitingly and kindly. And you realise far too late that you've fallen into his trap.

[melissawebb-avocado]

1: Name

Milinda

2: Age

24

3: 3 Fears

Losing everyone, being alone, people seeing me for how i see my self

4: 3 things I love

My daughter, my husband, my sister

5: 4 turns on

Fatherly, back rubs, asking about my day, takes charge

6: 4 turns off

Dosent listen, trys to take without asking, yelling, procrastinating

7: My best friend

Brianna my sister

8: Sexual orientation

Straight

9: My best first date

Went to make pottery and then to dinner and an arcade

10: How tall am I

5"9

11: What do I miss

My home in chandler

12: What time were I born

2 pm

13: Favorite color

Teal

14: Do I have a crush

My husband

15: Favorite quote

"Most of us are gifted with the

ability to see the monsters hidden

within another, but are unable

to see past them.

It takes a special kind of person

to see the light inside of every

living being."

- Lynette Simeone

16: Favorite place

Oceanside beach

17: Favorite food

Sushi

18: Do I use sarcasm

Yes but only with those im close with

19: What am I listening to right now

Always AJR but the trolls 3 music

20: First thing I notice in new person

How they mingle with new people or stick with the person they know ignoring new people

21: Shoe size

11

22: Eye color

Hazel

23: Hair color

Brown, waiting to dye mt hair a copper red brown

24: Favorite style of clothing

Graphic t and baggy jeans

25: Ever done a prank call?

Yes.

27: Meaning behind my URL

Its my first ever book i wrote in middle school

28: Favorite movie

Howls moving castle

29: Favorite song

AJR object in motion

30: Favorite band

AJR

31: How I feel right now

Depressed

32: Someone I love

My daughter

33: My current relationship status

Married 💍

34: My relationship with my parents

BFF with my MIL and FIL call them every other day. Talk to my mom whenever i can. Forgave my dad but wont ever forget.

35: Favorite holiday

The days before Christmas

36: Tattoos and piercing i have

C section scar

37: Tattoos and piercing i want

None

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

To find more fans aboit the series i loved

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?

I dont talk to any of them.

40: Do I ever get "good morning" or "good night" texts?

No because we say it to each other when we go to bed together

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

My husband?

42: When did I last hold hands?

Last night

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

Im a stay at home mom so i wake up and thats it.

44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days?

Yesterday

45: Where am I right now?

Siting on the couch watching my daughter play

46: If I were drunk & can't stand, who's taking care of me?

My husband but my sister is taking me to him.

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

LOUD

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

i live with my husband now

49. Am excited for anything?

To get pregnant with my 2nd kid in summer!

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

My husband

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?

Not as much anymore. I used to be very good at hiding my emotions no one knew but after years of therapy my face is easy to read.

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

Last night

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?

I hope it would be my daughter. But i would probably cry since i dont feel pretty anymore since ive gained weight after birth.

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

Nope. All the people i used to trust that were toxic i dont talk to or give them anything from me anymore.

55: What is something I disliked about today?

My husband is working and theres no wifi

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

My old therapist.

57: What do I think about most?

The future, where im not stressed about bills, healthcare, or living somewhere i dont. Planing my future home.

58: What's my strangest talent?

Imagination

59: Do I have any strange phobias?

Speaking in public

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind!!!!

61: What was the last lie I told?

Im fine

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Phone

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Ghosts are real. I beilve there is other life in the universe but they look like you and me. Not movie aliens.

64: Do I believe in magic?

No

65: Do I believe in luck?

Yes. Sometimes you just wake up with a good start and it keeps pulling you forward.

66: What's the weather like right now

It snowed yesterday

67: What was the last book I've read?

The last olympian percy jackson

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

No

69: Do I have any nicknames?

Mina

70: What was the worst injury I've ever had?

Tore my esophagus from throwing up so much for months

71: Do I spend money or save it?

Spend on temu

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?

No

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me?

My daughters strawberry baby blanket

74: Favorite animal?

Axolotal

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

Watching tik tok

76: What do I think is Satan's last name is?

Hellboy

77: What's a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Trolls 3 better place

78: How can you win my heart?

Random acts of kindness

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?

The hardest thing she did was survive and she lived through it all.

80: What is my favorite word?

Cascade

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr

Basbardbin, moringmark, buggachat,

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

Just a reminder that by the time your child is 18, they will already have spent 93% of the time they will spend with you in their lifetime. So go on that adventure, because you can always get your money back, but you'll never get those years back.

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?

No

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

Read peoples minds

85: What would be a question I'd be hesitate to tell the truth on?

86: What is my current desktop picture?

Me and my daughter in the sand at the beach

87: Had sex?

Uh yeah.

88: Bought condoms?

Nope

89: Gotten pregnant?

Yep

90: Failed a class?

Nope

91: Kissed a boy?

Yepppp

92: Kissed a girl?

Nope

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

Yep, my husband

94: Had job?

Yep. 5 jobs

95: Left the house without my wallet?

Yeah util i atached my keys and my wallet together

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

No

97: Had sex in public?

In a car parked on the side of the street.

98: Played on a sports team?

Soccer, volleyball, swimteam, softball

99: Smoked weed?

No

100: Did drugs?

No

101: Smoked cigarettes?

No

102: Drank alcohol?

No

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

No

104: Been overweight?

Still am.

105: Been underweight?

No

106: Been to a wedding?

Yes, mine and my best friends and SIL

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?

Yep

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

Yep, just watched avatar 1 and 2

109: Been outside my home country?

Mexico.

110: Gotten my heart broken?

Yep

111: Been to a professional sports game?

collage games?

112: Broken a bone?

Broke my radias of my wrist riding my bike

113: Cut myself?

Tried to. Kept to scratching.

114: Been to prom?

No

115: Been in airplane?

Yes. Terrified

116: Fly by helicopter?

No

117: What concerts have I been to?

None

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

No

119: Learned another language?

No

120: Wore make up?

Try to at least.

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?

Nope

122: Had oral sex?

Yes

123: Dyed my hair?

Not yet

124: Voted in a presidential election?

No

125: Rode in an ambulance?

No

126: Had a surgery?

Yes, c section

127: Met someone famous?

President uchdorf

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

My exs and their girlfriends

129: Peed outside?

Yep, road trips

130: Been fishing?

Yep with my dad. Hoping to have a better experience one day

131: Helped with charity?

In high school and middle school. Worked for toys for tots.

132: Been rejected by a crush?

Yeah. High school asked a boy out to go bowling.

133: Broken a mirror?

No

134: What do I want for birthday?

Dnd table or 3d printer.

[lightofthemoonglow]

chapter five - your need grows teeth

Summary: An entire chapter devoted to how it goes from a one time thing to something that happens on a regular basis. Borderline plotless, really.

This is the fifth chapter of ‘Howl: The Director’s Cut’, a fic about how the massacre turns a pair of roommates into a pair of feral idiots in an intensely intimate and kinda kinky relationship.

series masterlist

Written in the third person.

Warnings for this chapter: foul language, blood, smut

i

“What the hell happened last night?” Dan asks. “When I got home, there was water all over the kitchen, and I’m going to assume those were your panties on the floor. So, I guess your date went well?”

“Well, it did and it didn’t. It didn’t go so well with her, and there was a guy that was there, so…” Jess makes a V with her fingers on either side of her mouth and sticks out her tongue, wiggling it around. Dan makes a disgusted noise, but he’s chuckling a moment later as he goes to rinse his bowl of cereal. Herbert shoots Jess a death glare, but that just spurs her on. “You could say that it went okay. He was willing to take a trip downtown, but he was merely…adequate.”

“Ouch,” Dan winces out of sympathy, not noticing Herbert gripping the sides of the counter so hard that his knuckles were white while his face was starting to flush.

“You didn’t sound like he was doing an adequate job,” Herbert sneers, unable to help himself. “In fact, you sounded like you were having a damn good time.”

“Were you listening to them?” Dan sounds horrified and Jess just smirks. “God, Herbert…you need to learn about boundaries.”

“With all the noise she was making, it felt like I was right there,” Herbert replies, looking right at Jess, hazel meeting brown. “And that is my shirt.”

The plain green button-up hangs loosely on Jess’ frame, as do most of her clothes. It had been part of their welcome package when they had officially been assigned to Peru. They had given Jess and Herbert the same size in shirts, so the two of them had created a sort of communal wardrobe, sharing what fit them both.

Though she hadn’t picked this shirt by accident. It had been part of the little game she wanted to play with him. All she wanted was to tease him a little, shake him up. But in the end, it seemed that Herbert could give as good as he got.

“If you say so.” Jess casually takes it off, tossing it at his feet. Dan averts his eyes, not wanting to see her in any sort undressed state. Even if it was just her in a plain black bra that, upon closer inspection, has seen better days. It covers so much more flesh than what she had been wearing the night before. Herbert feels a brief flash of some nameless emotion, his gut twisting as he wonders if that had been a special purchase, only worn so it could be removed with care by someone she deemed worthy. Her imagines ripping it off, shredding her undergarments after taking in the sight of her in them, so no one else could see her like that.

“Herbert, wait until you’ve actually had sex before you judge the sex lives of others,” Dan chides him as Jess crosses the room to root through the dryer, hoping to find something to wear.

“I’ve had sex, Daniel.” Herbert’s voice is bland, despite the desire to smirk as he sees Jess stop in front of the dryer, her posture stiffening. “Only twice, and with the same person, but it still counts.” It’s a risk, revealing that she was his first and only partner. She could choose to fight fire with fire and he half-expects her to.

But instead, Jess just slams the dryer door shut loudly and leaves the kitchen, glaring at him. Dan is asking questions that Herbert doesn’t hear, as he’s quietly savoring in this little victory, his expression betraying nothing.

ⅱ

The kitchen incident had been on a Saturday night.

By Tuesday, Herbert is a man possessed, consumed with desire, an obsessive desire that feels threatening. He finds himself practically bent over in the shower, digging his nails into his thigh as he feels that horrible, aching need pulse through him. His other hand is braced against the wall, keeping himself up as he breathes heavily, trying to will all of this away.

He will not give in, he will not give in.

Blood has seemingly drained away from his brain and settled between his legs; a physiological impossibility that feels very probable right now. Herbert can feel his erection bob with every movement he dares to make, and he needs to clench his jaw tightly to keep from groaning out loud when it smacks gently against his abdomen after he bends over just a little bit more. The new angle allows him to see Jess’ bathrobe hanging on the wall and even that faint reminder of her mere existence is enough to make his whole body twitch.

When he moves to bat it down, as if that would help, Herbert’s fingers graze along the scar from the explosion incident. The scar that her stitches had left behind.

It comes rushing back to him, a lump forming in his throat as for a moment, he feels her fingers inside of him. How they had been still for a moment before Jess fully realized what was happening, the frantic twitching as what he assumed to be panic had set in. He gasps at the memory of her digits moving inside that warm, wet place inside of him for what had only been seconds but felt like an eternity. Herbert hadn’t heard anything, but he imagines that there had been a slick sound as she had pulled her fingers out.

The drag of her fingers when Jess had pulled them out of the gash had hurt, but even the memory of that unique pain doesn’t make it stop. His length still juts out obscenely, flushed a darker shade than the rest of his pale body, rigid and unyielding, no matter what he did.

Not for the first time, he wonders how it had felt for her. To have her fingers inside of him, if she had felt him pulsing around her fingers, warm and wet. If she had felt that jolt of excitement that he gets when he thinks of returning the favor. And he’s thought about it more times than he’ll ever admit, even to himself.

(He can see Jess in the tent, her dark eyes wide, focused on him as he kneels next to her, his gloved hands red with her blood. There is so much blood smeared on her skin, bright red on light brown, but it’s going to be alright. He tells her so, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers for a moment, his hands still trying to stop the flow of blood from her abdomen. Herbert knows what Jess feels like on the inside in other ways and maybe that influences the way he imagines how the inside of her abdominal cavity would feel. She’s warm, pulsing with life and when he pulls his fingers out, she gasps, arching her back.)

A bead of pre-ejaculate fluid has gathered on the tip and when he goes to wipe it away, a jolt of sensation lances through his body, reminding him of that night. Before he can stop himself, Herbert has wrapped his hand around the tip and remembers the last time someone had touched him.

(the contrast of smooth skin and rough scar tissue shouldn’t have felt so good but it makes his entire body shudder and he moans brokenly against the crook of her shoulder as his fingers slide up her thigh, dipping inside of her, feeling her desire, which was just for him

she was just for him, he was just for her and everything was actually alright)

His hand moves along his shaft just once and Herbert forces his hand away and stands up, breathing heavily. He curses her, curses Jess’ entire existence and then he finds his hand around himself again as he remembers how he had been the one to finish her off that night and he swore that he could faintly taste her on his tongue again.

The memory of being between her thighs, the soft, yet forceful way Jess had commanded him, makes Herbert’s hand move roughly for a few moments, making him need to hold back his whimpers. A knock on the door and the sound of Dan’s voice asking if he was going to be done any time soon made him stop, both to his relief and consternation.

Herbert leaves the bathroom with a carefully composed expression, which slips briefly when he passes Jess’ bedroom, and he hears her moving around inside, as if she hadn’t done this to him.

iii

“You sure you don’t want to come? I can follow you home and give you a ride.” Amber’s offer is sincere, even if it would make them at least a half hour late.

“No, I’m good. Really.” Jess shakes her head, gesturing at herself. It had been a long day of classes, followed by her shift at the hospital, which had been capped off by her getting sprayed with blood just before it was time for her to leave. All she wants to do is go home, get clean and settle in front of the TV with leftover pizza and some booze. “Go. Have fun.”

With one last look, Amber heads over to where the others are gathered. The group includes Dan, who is up for a night at the bar with a large group of people, which has never been that appealing to jess. Before that night, she had been more willing to go along. Now, it’s harder to keep the mask on, so her nights out have become less frequent.

Herbert’s car is in the driveway when she gets back, which was expected. The house is silent when she enters, save for the sound of Ghost and Addams coming to greet her at the door. Both get kisses before Jess makes her way upstairs and they go back to playing with a ball of yarn.

As Jess walks up the stairs, Herbert emerges from the basement and hears heavy boots on the stairs. He needs to go upstairs, to get a book from his room. It has nothing to do her. Honestly. And yet, when he passes her half open door, he doesn’t stop himself from looking inside.

Jess is standing by her laundry basket, about her remove her scrub top when she sees him. Her blue scrubs are nearly soaked with blood and so are her arms, hands, neck, and even her face. But not her mouth, which Herbert is thankful for.

(He’s not sure what he would have done if blood had been painting her lips.)

Their eyes meet as her shirt drops to the floor. Both of their faces are void of expression, but he stands up a little straighter and the way she sharply draws in a breath makes her chest heave. A part of Jess is screaming that he needs to look away. That the smart thing to do would be to just slam the door in his face, tell him to fuck off.

But her track record when it came to doing the smart thing and Herbert has never been good.

So the bra falls to the floor.

Herbert can’t help but look. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. After a year of living together, with having spent most of it bathing together, changing in the same room and everything else they had done together, her body was as familiar as his own. While he hasn’t inspected every inch of her physically, he can still see every inch of her in his mind’s eye. And yet, he can’t help but look at her breasts, hands twitching at the memory of them in his hands, his tongue darting out for a moment as he recalled what it felt like to drag it along the flesh there. The sensation of the raised area from her scars and the taste of her freshly clean skin come back to him.

Silence reigns as her fingers hooked into the waistband of her bottoms, Jess needing a moment to look down to fully get them off. When she looks up, he’s gone.

Not unexpected. Him staying would have been the surprise. Jess sighs and grabs her robe, heading to the bathroom, where a hot shower awaits her.

As she watches the blood swirl down the drain, she thinks about him. About that night in Peru, when the water had looked just like this as he had knelt at her feet, looking up at her with soft eyes as her hands worked shampoo into his hair to get the blood out. He had been vulnerable, both of them had been. They had looked death in the eye and walked away.

Thoughts of what had happened afterwards makes her hand drift between her legs. That night had been special. It had been the best she’d felt in months, since before that night. He had made her come so hard that she nearly cried. She can’t imagine sobbing and saying she loves him at the same time. It makes her feel pathetic and she pushes those thoughts away, focusing on the physical.

The sounds of her moans only increase once she brings the showerhead into play. Dan’s not home and this is Herbert’s fault, so she doesn’t try to muffle her sounds. Not that she’s sure how much he can hear, but it doesn’t matter anyway.

Orgasms always clear her head and this one is no exception.

After her shower, Jess moves downstairs, where her bag is waiting for her, along with the coffeemaker, the couch and the television. A strong cup of coffee, with some whipped cream, sugar and airplane whiskey is in her hands within minutes, and she’s settling into her study area on the couch, an episode of the original Star Trek playing as she opens a book on internal medicine.

It’s not a very exciting evening, she will admit that, but after everything that’s happened since December, jess is fine with a lack of excitement.

Upstairs, Herbert is in the throes of utter torment. He’s sitting on his bed, pants undone and his fist around his length. He’s thick and heavy in his own hand as behind closed eyes, he pictures jess. Her defiant gaze as she had undressed. Daring him to look, daring him to touch. And then all of the other memories, of her warm thighs around his head, the way she had tugged his hair so hard that it had actually hurt, how her body had felt when he had been inside of her, trying to claim her as his without even meaning to in the moment.

It seems fitting that the only time he gives into his urges, he can’t finish himself off. Herbert lets out a grunt of frustration as he realizes, yet again, that he can’t quite manage a grand finale. Nothing seems to bring him that final satisfaction and he realizes why in a burst of clarity that carries him through tucking himself back into his pants and down the stairs.

The sight that greets him when he reaches the living room is infuriatingly ordinary. Jess is curled up on the couch, a mug in her hands as she reads, a pen behind her ear. Herbert just watches her for a few moments, barely realizing that she’s watching one of his favorite episodes of Star Trek, not even really noticing it save for at the very back of his mind. His eyes are on her legs, on how the Georgetown sweatshirt she’s wearing seems to be the only thing she’s got on, but there’s a faint glimpse of the hem of a pair of shorts.

“What do you want, West?” she asks, wrinkling her nose at him for a moment.

“I have an…issue.” Herbert’s teeth are gritted as he forces out the words, glancing at the problem at hand. It’s the second most humiliating moment of his life and yet, he remains as erect, even as her eyes flick downwards and she clearly needs to repress a giggle.

“That’s a you problem, West.”

“This is your fault!”

“My fault?” Jess stands, walking over to him, her hands curled into fists. It’s all she can do to not push him down and ride him until he’s begging for more and promising her everything.

“Yes, your fault. You’ve…done something to me. And I can’t get rid of it!”

“Say it. Say what I did to you, and I’ll give you what you want.” Jess meets Herbert’s gaze, not flinching even when he glares at her, looking as if eviscerating her with his bare hands would be just as good as fucking her. But she doesn’t back down. Some of the control she had lost during that night in the morgue is back in her hands and she is going to enjoy it for as long as she can, stretch it out in any way possible.

The TV is still going, neither of them catching the eerily relevant line.

No. Nor am I a man. I'm a Vulcan. I'd hoped I would be spared this, but the ancient drives are too strong. Eventually, they catch up with us, and we are driven by forces we cannot control to return home and take a wife. Or die.

Herbert knows that he doesn’t have to say a thing. He can leave, go down to the lab and work until this goes away.

And yet…

“You have aroused me and I want you to do something about it.” He grabs her face, holding her mouth and chin in between his thumb and index finger. There is a pause before he tacks on one last word. “Please.”

As it turns out, ‘please’ is indeed a magic word.

Jess pushes Herbert into the chair by his shoulders. “I thought you were above such primitive urges, West,” she says as she kneels in front of him, clearly enjoying the power she has over him. Quickly, she untucks his shirt and roughly undoes every button she can reach. It’s not all of them, but enough to be able to see the scar on his abdomen.

For a moment, she just stares at the result of her work. Deep down, it’s her favorite example of her skills. Herbert watches her, observing how her pupils are starting to dilate. Before he can respond, she presses her to mouth to the scar, lingering there for a moment too long. He’s shaking before she even begins to remove his belt.

“Eager, aren’t you?” His cock is fully erect, the tip and then some flushed an angry red and practically weeping. It twitches without any sort of stimulation before she even wraps her hand around the base. Slowly, she swirls her tongue around the tip, Herbert letting out a high-pitched cry, jerking his hips upward. The sight of Jess on her knees in front of him sends a jolt through his body. The enjoyment he gets out of seeing her like this is illogical, and yet he wants more.

And then she takes him into her mouth.

Warm, wet, hot. Those words are the last thing he thinks for a while. Herbert can’t stop the noises that leave his mouth. They’re lewd, shameful, nearly constant as her tongue swirls around the glans. She pulls her mouth off for a moment and he whimpers, verging on whining. When her mouth returns, he nearly sobs. Without thinking, his hands gather fistfuls of her hair, needing to hold onto something as her mouth slowly slides down his length. When he lets go, his hands move to the back of her head, pushing it downwards.

That earns him the loss of her mouth on him and a snarl. Jess pins his wrists to the chair, gripping hard enough to leave marks. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks and he shakes his head furiously, squirming helplessly. “Then cut that shit out.”

Even after she lets go, Herbert keeps his hands on the couch. His eyes are focused on Jess, fascinated by the sight of her lips around his shaft, how she keeps taking more and more of him. No wonder so many men go mad for this sort of thing. He wants her mouth to never leave him. It’s like being worshipped and cared for all at once. Soon, Herbert is a mess of incoherent mumbling, a nonsensical mix of English and German, even before she finally takes all of him into her mouth, down her throat.

Though when Herbert finally reaches his peak, only the tip is in her mouth. He cries out, nearly tearing the chair’s upholstery in his frenzy. Jess only encourages the mess, coaxing every last drop out of him. But before she can spit or swallow, Herbert chooses a third option.

It’s easy to pull her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her as he kisses her forcefully. His tongue shoves into her mouth, moving eagerly to take all that he could. Even after he’s taken as much as he can, he doesn’t let her go. Herbert buries his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent as her curls brush against his cheek. He likes the way he tastes when it comes from her mouth, as opposed to basically from the source.

The television plays on, though the adventures of the Enterprise and her crew or a dull roar in their ears. it's not like this episode is new to either of them. It's a mutual favorite, in fact.

Herbert thinks about being able to mind meld with Jess, the thought flitting through his head almost manically. He imagines knowing her inside and out, possessing parts of her that no one else ever could because they would be one for a few glorious moments. The idea of her being able to see and possess him in the same way isn't as awful as he thought it would be. His fingers come up and press against her temples without him even thinking about it.

Much to her surprise, Jess doesn't push his hand away, not even when it trails down her face brushing over one of the scars. It sends a chill down her spine, but in a good way. Good enough to make her moan softly and brush her lips across the pulse point on his neck. It gets a soft noise out of Herbert, his hips jolting upward, seeking friction before her teeth scrape over that same spot.

just doesn't have much time to wonder if his former reagent habit is connected to his lack of a refractory period before he begins pawing at her. Shaking hands tug at her sweatshirt, fumbling as if he can't figure out how to remove it. Eventually he gives up all together and goes for her shorts, yanking them downward along with her underwear.

“Already, Woods?” he asks as he slides two fingers inside of her, realizing right away that she’s wet, but he’s too sex drunk to feel smug about it.

“Shut up.” She wraps her hand around him again, giving what she’s getting. “I could say the same thing about you. Fuck, West, I thought you’d be better than this. But you’re not. You’re just-.”

Landing on her back on the floor cuts her off, but Herbert is on top of her within moments before she can find her voice again. He doesn’t know what to do, he has no idea what he wants, except to feel what he had felt that one night in Peru, before they had come back to their real lives.

“Can I…?”

In response, Jess pulls him down for a kiss that almost hurts.

It’s nothing like the last time, the tenderness is almost gone entirely. The only signs of what had been there before were his hesitation when it came to pinning her down and how she held back when clawing at whatever bits of flesh she could reach.

The rug is going to rub her skin raw, but Jess can only focus on how he's making her feel almost insane with desire. From her POV, she can see the TV and imagines Herbert cutting her shirt open the way Spock does to Kirk.

“Look. At. Me.”

Herbert pauses his thrusts to grab her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. Jess holds the eye contact even when he lets go, the hand going between her legs as he resumes movement.

Their eyes are still locked when she comes, barely making a sound though the way she is thrashing, clawing at his flesh, says more than enough

Herbert ducked his head when he feels it coming but he's only halfway out when he finishes. His bowed head deprived Jess of seeing what he had gotten to see from her, but she doesn't mind.

A loud, obnoxious commercial Jingle ruins the afterglow. Jess reaches over to grab the clicker shutting the TV off. The mess oozing down her thighs is barely a concern to her, while Herbert remains kneeling on the ground, brows furrowed as he stares between her legs

“I have an IUD. If you're worried.” Jess had been one of the first to get it when the hospital started offering them. And she had a clean bill of health. So while they had been foolish, it could have been worse.

“I knew that.” A lie, but she doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, they go to clean up, her in the bathroom and him in the kitchen. But he doesn’t go down to the basement.

When Dan comes home, it’s nearly an hour later. The TV is back on, an episode of Charlie’s Angels playing as they read. Though Jess has swapped out her textbooks for a clearly well-loved copy of Kindred and Herbert is reading a book on metaphysics in German. Her legs had been slung over his lap until Dan had made his presence clear, which caused her to pull them back.

“It smells weird in here. Have you guys been fucking?” Dan’s words are slurred by several beers. “No. Of course not. Herbert doesn’t fuck.”

Jess barely manages to stifle a giggle while Herbert glares at her. Both of their mouths remain shut. What happened that night will remain their little secret.

iv

It’s past midnight when the sound of someone entering the tent jolts Herbert out of concentration. It’s been a quiet day, which is becoming a rarity. Herbert isn’t allowed to work on his personal project in the house, which was fine. There wasn’t enough space in there anyway and Dan’s objections were a bigger distraction than the noises made by nature at this late hour. Tonight, the tent is free of patients, another rare occurrence.

He’s not surprised to see Jess making her way to one of the cots, a book in hand. The expression on her face is somewhat pained and he knows why. Once, he’d returned to the house late at night, and she’d been crying in her room, the door firmly shut. The pain couldn’t be helped sometimes, and he was trying to fix it. But progress took time, and he couldn’t tell her until he was close to perfecting it. There was no need to get her hopes up.

Jess chooses the cot nearest to his table, she’s close enough for him to see the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair isn’t braided or tied back for once. There’s a halo of curls surrounding her face, going down past her shoulders. A rare sight and one that he wishes to savor, just because he can, and others can’t.

It’s not a desire born of affection.

“Be careful, West. Or you’re going to end up like the good doctor.” Herbert looks up to see her tapping the front of her book. Frankenstein.

“I highly doubt it.”

“Hubris. The downfall of men since the beginning of time.”

Herbert glares at her. “Trust me. When my work is done-.”

“You’ll have defeated death and all that. I’ve heard it before. You act like I don’t listen when you and Dan talk.”

“And you do?”

“Always.”

v

A large hand envelops Jess’ shoulder as she walks towards the elevator, yanking her back and into a broad chest. The smell of Stetson alerts her to who decided to grab her and her hand slides into her pocket, closing around the knife in there. Her finger lingers on the button as she turns to scowl at the man who had decided he was entitled to grab her.

“What the fuck do you want, Pierce? When are you going to get it through your goddamn head that I don’t want anything to do with you?”

“Then why did you send your weirdo roommate after me?” Piece’s nostrils are flaring, his eyes are wide and Jess steps back, gripping the knife harder. The handle digs into her skin and it kind of hurts, but this situation is more dire.

“I didn’t. I’d go after you myself if I gave a shit.”

“Your fucked up little buddy ruined my life! My stuff is green now! How am I ever going to….you know…ever again!”

“Trust me, no one wanted you before.”

That was maybe not the right thing to say. Pierce looks angrier than she’s ever seen him and he advances on her, getting too close to comfort. She pulls the knife halfway out of her pocket and imagined the blade sinking into the firm flesh of his abdomen. The muscles might make it difficult for a normal person, but she wasn’t one of those anymore. Whatever the reagent had done to her would make it easy to defend herself.

“You vicious little bitch, I’m gonna-.”

But before she could do anything, before his threat can be finished, a voice rings out and stops both from going through with their next move.

“Is there a problem?” One of the radiologists has decided to step in and Pierce values saving face in front of a high ranking member of the staff more than trying to get back at Jess for something she had nothing to do with.

As she rushes to her car, keys between her fingers, Jess’ fury grows.

--

The door to his bedroom slams open, bouncing off the wall a bit. The pen in Herbert’s hand veers across the page, creating a line through his notes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jess yells, her accent muddying her words, which happens whenever she’s emotional. But he can understand everything she’s saying, her words are always crystal clear to him at this point. “Why the fuck did you decide to mess around with Pierce’s dick? That asshole thought I fucking did it and he tried to corner me.”

That had not been how it was supposed to go. Herbert can feel a clench in his gut. When he had gone through with this plan, Pierce going to Jess had not been a considered outcome. Biological warfare was not her modus operandi. But he supposes that Pierce wouldn’t know that because he didn’t know her at all.

“That was not my intention.” It’s all he plans to say, but Jess keeps going, enraged. She snarls at him and draws closer, even after he stands.

“Well, that doesn’t fucking matter, West! Why the fuck did you do that?”

The words linger at the tip of his tongue. Pierce was weak, foolish, and he needed to suffer some consequences for what he had done. They had gone to a war zone, and they had been the victims. Pierce had been allowed to stay in Arkham as if he had done nothing wrong. They had nearly died that night. Green semen was the least that could be done to him.

“You’re just going to continue yelling no matter what I say,” Herbert replies, clenching his jaw.

“You’re fucking right! He fucking threatened me! I almost stabbed him!”

That changes things for some reason. Herbert draws closer, brows furrowed in what could be considered concern. “He threatened you?”

“I don’t know what he was going to say exactly, but he was clearly going to do something. Look, that’s not the point. The point is that I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

“It wasn’t about you, it was about…”

But it had been, he had done it for her, using a tried-and-true method to make sure it worked. The clarity hits him hard, and Herbert can only close the gap between them, trying to push it back. He had done it for her, and it makes him feel sick because he’s supposed to be above this sort of thing. But the voice in the back of his mind that seems to speak for his little head tells him that he can’t hide from her anymore, that she knows what he did.

“What was it about, Herbert? What was it about?” Jess’ voice is softer now, her accent making her sound almost syrupy sweet.

When he kisses her, it’s angry, an attempt to shut her up. His teeth sink into the plushness of her lower lip before he breaks it and he can see the indents and a faint redness when he fully pulls back.

“Oh…” Jess whispers, bringing her fingers to her mouth, eyes so wide and dark that they seem like the abyss that Nietzsche had spoken of. “You fucking…”

But she kisses him back, scarred fingers weaving into his hair as she pulls him forward. Herbert pushes her back towards his bed, unable to stop himself. It’s madness, pure and simple. The way his blood seems to be rushing through his body reminds him of how it had felt when he had used reagent for his own purposes.

Maybe she’s the same sort of thing. An addiction that could rot him from the inside out.

But like before, he wants to indulge, even if she’s bad for him.

They both know what this is going to be like. Herbert looms over her, running his hands along the strip of flesh revealed by the hem of her shirt riding up. She’s warm, soft there, as opposed to the rougher or firmer parts of her body. It makes him want more.

The buttons of her shirt fly all over the bed and floor, he’s far too impatient to unbutton it carefully. Jess scowls at him but she grabs his hands and pushes them downward, towards the button of her jeans. Talking will ruin the moment, at least right now. It’s easier than it was last time to remove her pants, despite the presence of a button and zipper that her shorts obviously had not possessed.

The knife falls out of her pocket as he pulls her jeans down and off, Jess having removed her shoes when she had arrived home making it easier to do so. Herbert picks it up, weighing it in this hand. He barely needs to touch the button on the side for the blade to pop out.

It’s sharp enough to cut through the center gore of her bra. Even as Herbert had rested the side of the knife against her flesh, Jess hadn’t wavered, her eyes focused on his face. She never even looked at the knife, as if it weren’t a concern. The blade nicks her skin, and she doesn’t even blink.

Herbert doesn’t know if he should be pleased or terrified.

It didn’t draw blood, but he still runs his tongue over the spot as his hands push the remains of the bra off her shoulders, tossing it to the floor.

“I liked that thing,” Jess murmurs, looking at the floor for a moment. “You owe me a new one.”

“How am I supposed to take care of that?” Herbert answers automatically, despite his roaming hands and his desire for his mouth to do the same.

“You’re a smart guy. You can figure it out.”

She’s smiling and it makes him feel warm inside, it’s just as good as when he makes progress in the work. Herbert hates it because he can understand the biological need to have sex with her, but this part is incomprehensible. And he’s never been content when he can’t understand something.

This primal urge to ruin her, to make her scream…that is something else he can understand, even if it isn’t the perfunctory, simple version of intercourse.

They’re tangled together on his bed before they know it. The kissing is all teeth and tongue, they try to bite each other’s mouths in between, gasping and clinging to each other for dear life. Jess knows that she can stop at any moment. She can push him away, say no and he’ll listen. And then she would go to her room, plug in her vibrator and technically get the same result.

But his body is even better, even if his hands are cold as they paw at her breasts, pinching and even twisting her hardened nipples. Her skin feels so hot that she almost wants to tear it off, so it’s fine that his hands are as cold as the morgue he loves so much.

The moment his shirt is off, his chest that has a surprising amount of hair revealed to her hungry gaze, Jess bites. Strong teeth sink into the flesh over his heart, making Herbert gasp and yank at her hair, but she persists until she tastes copper. His blood smears over her lips, a deranged lipstick that dries before he kisses her again, even rougher than before.

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath, just barely loud enough for her to hear. He’s fumbling with his belt anyway and when he pulls himself out, he’s already fully hard, ready to go.

“You like it. You like me,” she snarks back. “Maybe one day, you’ll even love me.” She’s not even thinking about that. night in Peru, not until after she says it, right before he grabs her mouth between his thumb and index finger holding it open.

The impulse to spit into her mouth comes and he goes with it. The noise is louder than he thought it would be and they just stare at each other for a moment.

The slap is louder than the spitting, her hand leaving a bright red mark on his cheek.

It goes downhill from there.

They fight for control, as to be expected. Jess winds up on top, hands firmly planted on his chest as she sinks down on his cock. He's a bit above average length, but the girth is what nearly makes her eyes water as she begins to ride him with a fury that would have frightened a lesser man. But Herbert West has looked death in the face for fun, so he’s doing his best to give as good as he’s getting.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” she’s practically chanting as she keeps going, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. When Herbert tries to sit up, just to kiss her again, Jess shoves him back down and begins to ride him harder, clawing at his shoulders and down his chest, leaving long gashes in her wake. “I can fucking take care of myself, West. I don’t need you. Not for anything but this.”

For a moment, that feels like the truth. He’s nothing but her toy, a thing for her to play with. But the way she looks at him, even while she’s coming on his cock, brought to the edge by him, by her own fingers and that rush of power, makes it clear that he’s more. And both of them just know.

As she comes down from her climax, Herbert loops an arm around her waist and flips them over, throwing her down onto the mattress, her legs spread as wide as possible, and pinning her down by her wrists. Every thrust has the maximum amount of force behind it, causing them to be slower and more deliberate than before, making her howl in pleasure. He leans forward and sinks his teeth into her neck, drawing a bit more than a hint of blood.

“I don’t need you either. You’re just….there to me. I’ve already gotten what I need from you.” He laces his fingers through hers, holding her hands so tightly that she winces, which makes him relax his grip just enough to ease her discomfort. “These are proof of what my work can do.”

“But why did you even bother, West? Why?” Jess snaps, bucking her hips wildly. “You could have just left me alone, since you clearly didn’t have to do anything.”

She knows she won’t get an answer, but it was worth a try. It just makes him go harder, his hands bruising her wrists as the bed practically screams in protest over what’s going on.

And then it gives, the frame cracking and the pair nearly tumbling onto the floor as the bed basically breaks in half. Herbert’s thrusts nearly slow to a stop, the grip on her wrists loosening as he stares down at her, amazed that his erection did not go flaccid after that.

“Come on, cher.” Jess’ words are slurred, her hands weakly grabbing at him, pulling him forward just enough to make sure that he knew she wanted it as much as he did.

The pace is only a little les frenzied, his hands bruising her thighs and hips some more before he finally finds release moments after the second time she does. Jess is still moaning as he comes inside of her, one final thrust sealing his claim.

It takes a while for them to recover enough to study the aftermath. Bites, bruises, scratches, blood. The inside of her thighs are an angry red, there will likely be bruises there in the morning. Herbert’s chest is streaked with blood, as if something awful and violent had happened to him. Instead of whatever this was. Herbert awkwardly pulls her to his chest, stroking her hair. And Jess lets him, nuzzling the crook of his neck. They stay like that for a little while longer, clinging to each other in the wreckage of his bed.

“Can you walk?” Herbert finally finds his voice after several minutes. It’s hoarse and he almost expects her to not answer.

“I think so.” Jess tries to stand, barely managing to do so. Her legs are shaking non-stop as she manages to walk over to the pile of her clothing. “I’m gonna rest for a bit before I take a bath. So you can clean up first.”

“That’s fine.” He’s calm, as if the storm has passed. But they’re in the eye of it, in a way.

“That was…” she pauses, licking her bloody lips. “It was great.” Herbert nods, unable to say that this was one of the most exhilarating experiences of his life. “Actually, how about you join me in a little bit? We might as well save water.”

It’s a request, not a demand. Herbert knows this. But he gives the same answer he would have even if it had been an order.

“Then you might as well stay here,” he says and Jess nods, returning to what remains of his bed. They can figure this out later. Or maybe never.

[we-are-inevitable]

re: your werewolf au!! is david the only one of his kind?

are there more like him, maybe the whole jacobs family, deeper into the woods that he’s been sneaking away from bc of his fascination with humans? or was he turned this way somehow? maybe a very long time ago, he was human, but it’s been so long that’s he’s unfamiliar with it now?

idk if you plan on actually writing it or not, but the concept is fascinating!!

oh fuck oh FUCK okay so i kind of have the basic... Plot?... mapped out but 1: the concept of davey being so isolated and alone that he's barely clinging onto his humanity is so TEMPTING i fucking love it

okay so before we get into the fun jacobs content, i want to explain my views on what being a "werewolf" means (in my au specifically). buckle up, folks, this is gonna be a long one!

PLEASE feel free to ask anymore questions!! @ any of you!! here's the original concept!

right off the bat, i hate modern werewolf aus and how they handle being a non-human creature. personally, i'd much rather have:

"this is a wild feral creature in the woods that looks human but you can tell this isn't human and are they howling at night? are they the one creating this unsettling atmosphere? there's a deer skull three meters from my back porch. are they trying to be kind to me?"

instead of

"Yeah this is fuckin Chad he's a city boy that turns into a wolf dude during full moons and accidentally kills people but he doesn't remember doing it"

now that we have that out of the way, here are my personal favorite worldbuilding thoughts that i've had since middle school:

unnaturally bright eyes; not to a comedic point but there's just something *off.*

sharper teeth than normal humans

taller, faster, stronger than normal humans

they don't speak much english; unless they absolutely have to, they don't interact with humans much (but some get curious, like the way im picturing davey in this au)

on that note, they have their own ways of communicating. obviously as wolves they have their Instincts but even in human form they have a completely different language because they've been so isolated.

LANGUAGE NOTE: they have names but they're not in english.

i imagine their human names are just more of a "we needed this just in case" thing and not a "this is a conscious decision" thing? so their names don't mean anything, they're simply there because "this sounds human enough"

they're much more reserved and aren't violent, just protective and often defensive because they've been taught that humans = bad bad hurt bad not good bad

there’s not really a ranking system? no A/B/O dynamics; most families are run by the matriarch and the cycle continues with every generation.

also they can shift whenever they want bc the full moon thing is boring

BUTTTTT shifting is an incredibly painful process if you don't do it often

theyre just. wild and feral and don't have much socialization with humans and i love it so much

now, getting into david specifically:

his name, in his mother language, is diaad. (dee-ahd)

he's like. 23? and so is Jack in this au!

mans is easily 6'8. mans is also jacked. mhm.

his eyes seem to glow; they're much brighter in color than a normal human's. i'm torn between david's eyes being blue or a golden/hazel mix, so this is up to your interpretation for the time being!

he's so intelligent, even though he doesn't really know human stuff (which causes jack to kind of infantilize him at first; to be fair, david does the same thing to jack bc jack doesn't understand his culture)

but david is so versed in his culture. there are certain traditions they keep, like celebrations on the nights of the solstices or the family-oriented nature of all packs. he's so fucking smart! just in his own way.

he has an accent when he speaks; wolves know english out of precaution. they don't come into contact with humans often, but they have their own stories to cycle through whenever they do. (david doesn't like this. he'd rather learn about human culture; he doesn't want to be human, he just wants to coexist.)

in wolf form, david is fucking huge. he's already pretty large in human form, by wolf standards at least, so in his wolf form, he's fucking Big. his coat matches his hair color, dark enough to be mistaken for black, and his eyes are bright in this form too. he's speedy and strong. not all too coordinated, though; in either form, he's a bit too lanky for his own good, and can be a bit clumsy.

his whole thing is that he's grown to fear humans (im imagining a big "hunt down the wolves" moment in the lore for this), but then he meets Jack, who helps him when he's vulnerable and in pain (probably in human form). that's kind of the shift when he realizes he Wants to know humans (at least Jack) and know what's up with them!! like a science experiment at first but then as a friend thing)

and finally, some jacobs family content!!

i'm still coming up with names, but so far: David is Diaad, Sarah is Sahjah and Les is Leomah, Mayer is Manjah and Esther is Eshana (this is not completely set in stone obvi; also, they're ~inspired~ by Arabic names but theres not really a connection there! just to cover my basics)

Esther pretty much runs the family!

they have a "house," but it's mainly just for appearances sake; if anyone stumbles upon their little area (not likely) they'll see the houses and see humans and just think. huh. maybe this is a weird fucking religious thing. so they have clothes, they have houses (with no furnishings, really), they have some Normal Human Things but nothing that makes them actually human

they live with their extended family, all of them, in this huge pack/compound thing. Sarah and David have like 20 cousins; the Jacobs family is one of the smaller ones, with only 3 children, but everyone else has over 5 per each parental pair.

Esther is really good with wounds and fixing people up!

Mayer takes care of the children while Esther hunts, especially when they're younger; there's not really a gendered tier, everyone hunts, but Esther is better than Mayer so,, yeah!!

ok this is so fucking long but !! yeah !! i love this so much !! ty ty !!

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra Dimitrescu x Maiden ----Valiant

The tavern is lively in the evening.

A fact you are endlessly grateful for. It provides an imperfect little sanctuary to drown out the mad howling from the outside.

The shrill sound is nothing new, nor out of the ordinary for you; it has been with you your entire life. Ever since you were a child, you remember the fear it instilled and the nights it kept you awake, shivering in terror underneath the covers of your bed. You remember the stories your mother told you about the monsters lurking in the darkness of the forest… even more so now that her warnings and tales are all you have of her.

Perhaps that subconscious terror is the very reason which had you seeking work at the inn.

You could do literally anything else in the village than tolerate the half-mad grouch that is the owner –he never even pays on time— yet you are still here. Possibly to escape the cold walls of your empty house at night. Possibly to avoid being alone with the howls and the padding right out your door. You don’t know how the other villagers do it. They’re either braver, denser or crazier than you give them credit for.

As for yourself, you know for a fact you are not as strong as other people think you are. Maybe it is your sturdy build that tricks them, or the killer glare you’ve perfected over the years of putting up with the town’s shit. Whatever the case, you are in no hurry to debunk the lie, even while you recognize it for what it is.

A distant howl threatens to crack the cocoon of safety you’ve convinced yourself you’re tucked into, so you focus on the drunken chatter and the bard’s soft music a tad harder. It’s just the wind. Just the wind out there. Your knuckles are white around the bear glass you’re in the process of cleaning.

And then something strange catches your eye.

At a shadowed, quiet corner of the tavern, a shopkeeper is speaking to a hooded woman. The scene would not be anything out of the ordinary… only, you know just about every individual in this damned village –it comes with the job— yet you do not recognize her.

And you’d remember that tight, lithe figure, that is for certain.

There aren’t many girls in the village who can make plain black robes look like an article right out of a fashion magazine. So, yes, she is the first thing your mind settles on. But your attention quickly shifts to the person she’s talking to. The man has had far too much wine to drink –you’d know, you served it— and he’s not exactly the type you’d trust being inebriated around women. Already, he’s looking at her like a starved beast salivating over a freshly cut steak.

Your hazel eyes narrow at his direction.

“I will ask you for the final time. Do you have what I ordered for my mother?” the girl asks, her silvery voice curling slowly around every word, as if she’s talking to a toddler or a fool. It’s as funny as it is cute, but you can’t let yourself smile just yet. Something in his gaze takes all the mirth out of the situation for you.

Instinctively, you’ve moved closer.

“I have it. Yes, of course. Come with me an’ I’ll give it to you.” There is a very obvious slur to his words that inspires no confidence.

You want to shout when the girl so very easily follows him outside.

There are too many things wrong with that thought. Her, possibly new to the village, alone with a lecher like him. Her, unprotected, out in the dark, where every soul in this cursed place knows not to be.

Suddenly, you’re hyperventilating and you don’t know why. You don’t know her and her wellbeing is none of your concern. Everyone in the town is out for themselves, that part was made abundantly clear to you a long time ago. There is no room for compassion, especially at night. She made a bad decision and the consequences are her own to deal with.

You are not a heroine to follow her out and save her from the wolves and the man’s intentions and the rumored monsters. You are not that good of a person. You know it like you know the sky is blue; you are not that brave.

But you must be stupid.

You must be, because it’s not a minute later that you hurry out the back door, as well. It’s difficult to see anything in the dead of night, but you manage to spot the pair on the side of the building. The shopkeeper is now leaning too close to her, a drunken grin to his lips as he reaches out to grab at her chest. The girl’s hand flies to her hip, the handle of a weapon visible there just under the shadows—

Your fist is faster.

It cracks straight against the man’s jaw in a sound that shouldn’t be so satisfying but it is. His head knocks against the wall and he falls backwards like a pushed domino. Howls echo in the distance but the sound of your heart is too loud in your ears to register them.

You turn to the girl to make sure she’s alright –to see her with a gleaming sickle in hand, hovering awkwardly mid-air. At least she had a weapon with her. Yet it’s not so much the blade as her face that captures your attention.

She is beautiful. All delicate features befitting a princess, curved nose and cupid lips and a small chin. Her brown hair looks silken-soft as it runs down the sides of her angelic face… but you haven’t heard of any angels with an umbral, rose-like tattoo on their foreheads.  

You have heard of beings bearing such markings that you’d be smart to avoid.

The contrast between the attraction you feel and the danger you should feel leaves you hanging there, still and mute. She is the first to move, hooking her sickle back to her belt in a motion far too dexterous not to ring some alarm bells in the back of your head.

“Well.” she says. “Looks like I’ve been rescued.” she doesn’t sound rescued. “Unnecessary… but sweet of you.” If her smile wasn’t so pretty maybe you would have already started running indoors.

“N-no problem.” you say as you’re beginning to regret all your life choices.

Her eyes flash down to your neck, then back up to yours. You don’t see her move, but her hand is suddenly on your bicep, just above the curve of your elbow. You can feel the chill of her skin through your clothes. “Relax. You’ll have a heart attack.”

Easy for her to say.

A quiet moment passes between you, during which you are all too aware of the fact your back is now pressed against the wall and she’s in front of you. Then, “Is it the howling…?” she asks. You’re half-lying when you nod. “Don’t worry about it. I can’t very well let my valiant protector get eaten, now, can I?”

It’s meant as a joke, but your heart constricts further in your chest. Images you’d like to avoid thinking about come to mind. How casually did she say the word ‘eaten’, though…?

“I’m –not really any of those things.” You shake your head. “What did you need from this guy?”

Conversation is probably good, you muse. It helps with your nerves and it keeps her occupied. Plus, she’s kind of really cute, the way her voice so perfectly matches her face. You can’t help but add that to the list of reasons.  

A pout crosses her balmy lips. The moonlight that caresses her face makes them glitter. “I wanted a surprise gift for my mother. My order should have arrived by now –so maybe I don’t need him, after all.” Maybe I don’t need him alive is what she doesn’t say but strongly imply.

“No, no! I can get it for you!” you say the second she makes to move towards the unconscious shopkeeper.

A soft, airy chuckle leaves her lips. “Didn’t you say you aren’t a valiant protector?”

“Words I stand by. But there’s been enough loss in the village as it is.” you somehow find the courage to reply. “I’ll get it from him tomorrow—”

“So, that’s where you are.” Another female voice chimes in, this one several tones darker than firmer than the brunette’s. The figure that looms in the darkness wears a similar attire, but she feels more ominous than the one in front of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” she says, stern, like an older sister you don’t want to ever cross.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m coming.” The brunette waves with her free hand. The one that’s not still on your arm. She turns back to you, her expression sweet amusement once more. “Be home tomorrow night and have my order with you, yes?” You can imagine it’s impossible for anyone to say ‘no’ to her when she bats her lashes like that.

You also don’t want to imagine what will happen if you refuse.

“Uh— Yeah.”

She beams. She downright beams. “Excellent!” She steps away and you take a much-needed breath…

But then she seems to think twice about it and slips right back into your space. Dainty fingers catch your chin, deceptively strong. Cool, soft lips land on your warmed cheek. She smells good, is all you can think about while she’s that close. Like the cold and roses and faint undertones of something metallic.  

“Thanks, sweetheart.” she purrs.

The edge of her hood brushes your forehead and she’s out of reach before you can even blink. She waves at you from her sister’s side, who looks none too pleased with any of this.

And then— she blends into the dark and you finally register how cold it is outside.

Ko-Fi

[feyredarlinq]

“azriel feels entitled to elain / azriel only wants elain because she’s the third archeron sister” (don’t even get me started on the whole “he only wants her for s3x”, i’ve already discussed it here) as if azriel stared to care for her, understand her, have feelings for her, fall in love with her towards the end of a court of silver flames - because this is when both feysand and nessian are official together, and that makes elain the third/last/spare sister or whatever - but that’s not what happened at all, unless you want to ignore everything that happened before acosf (*coughs* four books* coughs*) i mean, just to make a few examples: 

azriel / elriel in acomaf

a faint smile bloomed upon azriel’s mouth as he noticed elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent (chapter 24)

elain said, “it’s all very disorienting.” “i can imagine,” azriel said. cassian flashed him a glare. but azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. her shoulders loosened a bit. (chapter 24)

rhys chuckled, cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and elain, noticing azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well. (chapter 24)

“and i think elain—elain would like it, too. though she’d probably cling to azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” i smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. if the warrior ever stopped quietly loving mor. (chapter 49)

azriel / elriel in acowar 

azriel smiled faintly. “would you like me to show you the garden?” she seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. the wings peeking over them. but elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. i couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “beautiful.” color bloomed high on azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them. (chapter 24)

“why not make them mates?” i mused. “why lucien?” (chapter 24)

“what if”—i jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden— “that is what she needs? is there no free will? what if lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?” (chapter 24)

the two illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, elain in dusty pink. both males went a bit still. (chapter 30)

i dragged a hand over my face before going to elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “can i set you up in the garden? the herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “i can help her,” said azriel, stepping to the table as elain silently rose. no shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as elain took his hand, and out they went. (chapter 30)

lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on elain, “should we—does she need …?” “she doesn’t need anything,” azriel answered without so much as looking at lucien. elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “we’re the ones who need …” azriel trailed off. “a seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “the cauldron made you a seer.” (chapter 32)

it made sense, i supposed, that azriel alone had listened to her. the male who heard things others could not … perhaps he, too, had suffered as elain had before he understood what gift he possessed. (chapter 33)

from the shadows near the entrance to the tent, azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “i’m getting her back.” nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. nesta said, “then you will die.” azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “i’m getting her back.” (chapter 64)

azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “are you hurt?” she shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “you came for me.” (chapter 65)

azriel still cradling elain to his chest. he dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out.” (...) rhys lunged for azriel, taking elain from him and gently setting my sister down. azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “we need helion to get these chains off her.” (...) yet elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek. (chapter 65)

elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in azriel’s scarred hand. the runes on the dark scabbard. “it has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” he gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “it will serve you well.” (...) “never,” rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. “i have never once seen azriel let another person touch that knife.” (chapter 69)

azriel / elriel in acofas

i don’t make a point of looking after his movements. “why?” not a flicker of emotion. “he is elain’s mate.” i waited. “it would be an invasion of her privacy to track him. to know when and if lucien sought her out. what they did together. “you sure about that?” i asked quietly. azriel’s siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. (chapter 7)

“do you think he can handle being around graysen?” az’s expressionless face was precisely the reason he’d never lost to us at cards. “why should I be the judge of that?” “you mean to tell me that you weren’t bluffing when you said you didn’t track lucien’s every movement?” nothing. absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. the shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. too much. (...) azriel only said coldly, “if lucien kills graysen, then good riddance.” (chapter 7)

azriel an a hand through his dark hair. “are we …” unusual for him to stumble with words. “are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” “no,” I said, and meant it. azriel eemed to loose a sigh of relief. seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips.” (chapter 7)

azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. i felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. her throat bobbed. (chapter 12)

“pick on someone your own size,” cassian said to amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. “i’d feel bad for the mice,” azriel muttered. mor and cassian howled, earning a blush from azriel and a grateful smile from elain—and no shortage of scowling from amren. but something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to elain’s eyes. (chapter 12)

azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “i’ve never stayed in this room.” his midnight voice filled the space (chapter 16)

“i had madja make it for me,” (...) elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “it’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” silence again. then azriel tipped his head back and laughed. i’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. (chapter 20)

elain smiled again, ducking her head. azriel mastered himself enough to say, “thank you.” i’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “this will be invaluable.” (chapter 20)

azriel and elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. whether he cared about such things, i had no idea, but i sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before rhys and i slipped upstairs. (chapter 22)

[izzyhavilliard]

This is for all the Elriel stans out there, all the scenes between Elain & Azriel that we have so far (let me know if I missed any). To keep you going until we get a book an Elriel book (which I’m confident we will.)

”The silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor.”

It might be a coincidence that she was wearing this color the first time she and Az met but we all know how much Sarah loves foreshadowing.

”A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork.”

”Elain said, ”It’s all very disorienting.” ”I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.”

”Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here. ”Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinkint. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ”Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” ”That’s very beautiful,” she said. ”Is it not - frightening, though? To fly so high?” ”It is sometimes,” Azriel said.”

”Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slippering enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”

”Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulder. He ser her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in trough the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. ”Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemes so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded - just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, ”Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors of the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

”Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports - likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn city - the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. ”Why not make them mates?” I mused.”

”I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. ”But you heard something else.” Elain seemed about to nod, but only backed away. ”I think I was dreaming,” she murmured. [...] Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

”The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow - while Cassian stalked for the dining table.”

It’s important to note that Az & Cassian had the same reaction to seeing Elain & Nesta.

””Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” ”I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but he kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”

”But Azriel asked softly, taking a single step over the threshold and into the sitting room, ”What other?” Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. ”The queen - with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eyes still fixed on Elain, ”Should we - does she need...?” ”She doesn’t need snything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now - unblinking. ”We’re the ones who need...” Azriel trailed off. ”A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. ”The Cauldron made you a seer.”

”It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not... Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

”While shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide eyed at the spymaster’s display.”

”Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.”

I think this is a parallel to his pov in ACOSF when he thought his hands weren’t worthy of touching her.

”But Azriel asked softly, ”What about Elain?”

He was the first one to notice that she was missing, not Feyre, not Nesta, but him!

”From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoked debate, ”I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowes golden in the shadows. Nesta said, ”Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare. ”I’m getting her back.”

He was literally risking his life to get her back!

”Azriel slid back the curtain - Elain was in her nighgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us - Azriel and me. I shifteb my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. [...] Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. ”Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of hom as if not quite believing it. ”You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.”

”As Azriel battled to keep them airborn, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast’s face. Its eye. Another. Another. It bellowed, and Elain slammed her bare, muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home.”

”Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time - a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he’d slapped on it. Help - he needed a healer immediately.”

He held on to Elain despite that she was now safe while he was very injured!

”Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel raped ”swaying on his feet, ”We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.”

Again, Az is injured but his first instinct is to get the chains off Elain.

”This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. ”I won’t be usung it today - so I want you to.” [...] It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. ”Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. ”It will serve you well.” [...] Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade - Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the only space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection ... that knife.”

Maybe Feyre will give that painting to Az & Elain in the future?

”Send Lucien, then. As our human emissary. I studied the tenseness in Azriel’s shoulders, the shadows veiling half of him from the sunlight. [...] ”I don’t make a point of looking after his movements.” ”Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. ”He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. ”It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.” To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together. ”You sure about that?” I asked quietly. Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the sea.”

Az gets very tense while talking about Lucien. He also doesn’t spy on him out of respect for Elain, I also think it’s because their bond hurts him too much (as mentioned in ACOSF).

”If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.”

He hates Graysen for what he did to Elain

””Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” ”No,” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief.”

He was nevous about getting Elain a gift, he does however give her one in ACOSF meaning their relationship has grown.

”In time to see Elain say to Azriel, ”Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ”Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ”I - I’ll be right back, she murmured.”

”There’s no going back to being human, girl,” Amren said, perhaps a tad gently. ”Amren,” I warned. Elain’s face reddened further , her back straightening. But she didn’t bolt. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’d never heard Elain’s voice so cold. I glanced at the others. Rhys was frowning, Cassian and Mor were both grimacing, and Azriel... It was pity on his beautiful face. Pity and sorrow as he watched my sister. [...] ”Pick on someone your own size,” Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. ”I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain - and no short of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.”

Azriel protectes Elain & made her feel better.

”I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s - the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphon atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footstept, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, ”Happy solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. ”I’ve never participated in one of these.””

”It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” Silence again. The Azriel tipped back hus head and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys jouined him, the former grabbing the glass bottle from Azriel’s hand and examining it. ”Brilliant,” Cassian said. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, ”Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. ”This will be invaluable.””

”Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. ”What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. ”A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up”, he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.”

”Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

Az’s shadows are ready to defend Elain.

”Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, ”There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

He is protective over her.

”I always thought she was born on the wrong side of the wall,” Elain admitted. ”She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,” she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.”

”Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. ”I was just checking on desert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shiften to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

”Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. ”My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. ”Why did you come if it torments you so much?” ”Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.” [...] Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers”

From the bonus chapter we know the reason he won’t go into the room is Elain and that her mating bond with Lucien hurts him too much. This really shows how much he loves Elain and how much pain it causes him that he can’t act on his feelings.

I decided not to add anything from the bonus chapter considering most of it is a scene between the two of them.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, sorry about any potential spelling errors.

[nxrthmizu]

| when the days are cold | Tsukishima Kei

»»——⍟——««

song | Demons - Imagine Dragons 

pairing | Tsukishima Kei x Reader

words | 1.2k

warning(s) | mentions of abuse 

author’s note | HELLO FELLOW BEANPOLE LOVERS ARE YOU READY TO BE SAD? HELL YEAH LETS GO on another note I think I’ve mentioned this already I’m in tag jail so it would be very very very helpful if you could reblog my posts! I don’t think people will see this on their dashboard otherwise. Thank you! :3 

»»——⍟——««

He remembered. 

He remembered all the ‘what if’s and the ‘I’ll never be good enough for her’s that plagued him from the very moment Yamaguchi got tired of his best friend’s hopelessness in the progress of his love life. 

When the days are cold and the cards all fold 

“He likes you.” Yamaguchi pointed blatantly at the blonde, all of his shyness having fled after the freckled teen went through three years of high school and was named the captain of the volleyball club. Yamaguchi Tadashi had become a fully-fledged crow, standing tall and proud in all his fresh-university-graduate glory. “Has liked you for a while now and is too much of an idiot to ask you out. Can you go out with him?” 

And the saints we see are all made of gold

“Um.” 

If he was given a palette with all the shades of red known to men, he would be able to pinpoint the exact colour your cheeks turned in the cold of the white backdrop Miyagi’s early winter provided. 

“Yamaguchi, shut-” 

“Sure.” You were fidgeting with the frilly strands of your scarf, your eyes shying away from his. “I’d love to go out with you, Tsukishima.” 

Yamaguchi had to resist the urge to close Tsukishima’s gaping jaw as he stared at you in shock, taking a moment to recompose himself. “You do know you don’t have to, right?” The blonde eyed you carefully. “I’d be a terrible boyfriend. You know me. Heck, I’m a terrible friend.” 

“O- Only you think that.” You mumbled, fiddling with a strand of your hand now. “You’re nicer than you think.” 

He would be lying if he said that dating you wasn’t the best thing to ever happen to his life. You were always there, whether he was dealing with the unfamiliarities of his new museum job, or when Sendai Frogs had a match with EJP Raijin (And you were there when they lost, too). 

When your dreams all fail and the ones we hail

“Hey.” 

Looking up to see your eyes after just having his spike blocked by a smirking Suna Rintarou was comforting, to say the least. Pride shone in your eyes, despite the fact the thirty-minute deuce between Sendai Frogs and EJP Raijin was ended by Tsukishima’s shut-down spike. 

“You did great out there.” Your voice flowed into his aching muscles like warm honey, soothing the soreness away and oxidising the lingering acid. “I didn’t dare to blink.” 

“Then you would’ve seen that pathetic spike, huh.” He replied bitterly, looking down and backing away from your touch. 

You gasped, sounding offended and exaggerating your movements. “How dare you say that about my boyfriend!” You scowled, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I won’t tolerate anyone talking shit about him. I’ll have you know he drags himself to practice even after he’s had a tiring day at his day job, and I’ll have you know that he trains very hard, thank you very much.”

Are the worst of all and the blood's run stale

You were there, when lightning flashed across the sky and you learned that Tsukishima Kei was scared of thunderstorms. You were there, when his mother fell sick and things weren’t looking particularly good. You were there, when cutting remarks shot out from his mouth like a barrage of arrows because the monster inside him was howling, scratching, and tearing from inside his rib cage. 

But it wasn’t as if you didn’t have monsters of your own, either. 

I want to hide the truth, I want to shelter you

“Heads up!” You grinned, taking Tsukishima by surprise as you whacked him with a pillow, bursting into a fit of intoxicating giggles when he responded with a surprised Pikachu face. 

“Oh, you’re going to regret that.” He wore a sly smirk, picking up his own pillow and setting down his phone on the bedside table. The bed sunk where he pushed himself up, curving downwards like a vortex. A predatorial grin decorated his lips as he crawled towards you, moving suddenly to raise the pillow. 

You flinched visibly, panic flitting across your eyes, your hands extending in front of you in a defensive position until you realised what you had just done. 

“K- Kei, it’s not what it looks like...” You shivered, seeing realisation dawn into his hazel-gold eyes. 

But with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide

“That bastard... Your ex... He hurt you, didn’t he?” The growl rumbled in his throat, anger flashing in his eyes until he saw the fear reflected in your eyes. “Shortcake, I’m so sorry...” 

Shaking your head furiously, you reached forward the wipe the apologetic expression off his features. “It’s not your fault.” You said firmly, trying not to let your voice shake. 

“I should’ve known.” He argued, setting down the pillow to diligently wrap his arms around your waist. “I shouldn’t have moved towards you like that.” 

“There was no way you could’ve known.” You refuted quietly, bringing your fingers up to caress his face. “I didn’t... I didn’t want you to know this side of me.” You admitted guiltily. 

No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed

He stared at you, befuddled. “Shortcake... I would never judge you for it. You know that.” 

This is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come

“I know, I just...” 

When you feel my heat, look into my eyes

“Look at me.” He gently cradled your face in his hands, fingers caressing your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I have my own demons, too, Y/N.” 

“You don’t understand.” You cried softly. “He left scars, Kei.” 

It was only then it dawned on him why the two of you never bathed together. If the two of you got home from work at the same time, you would always let him bath first. He had thought it was because he was the one who had volleyball practice and probably smelt worse- But now he realised it was because you didn’t want him to see what you deemed as the ‘ugly’ side of you. 

It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide

“Hold on,” He frowned, scrunching up his nose. “You’re telling me that this whole time, you’ve refused to let me see you naked- Is because of your scars? That’s stupid.” 

You sniffled, feeling tears prick the edge of your eyes. “B- But it’s... It’s such an ugly side of me.” 

Don't get too close, it's dark inside

“And?” Demanded Kei, his hazel-gold eyes piercing into your soul. “So what if you think it’s ugly? I couldn’t care less. If anything, I think it’s proof that you were brave enough to leave him.” 

It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide

“You... Think I’m brave?”

“I think you’re the bravest person ever.” He said firmly, pleased as your tears started drying and your smile reformed. “There we go.” His voice was soft, the two of you sitting in each other’s embrace for a moment longer, the pillow fight forgotten. “Do you want to move onto the bed? It’s much more comfortable for cuddling.” 

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @drippinginhoneyandgold @shoyosun@aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @tsumuseum-deactivated20201211

send an ask to either @owlywrites or @cadenceh2o to be added to Cadowly’s Songfic December taglist! 

also sorry that I posted this late lol, I just finished writing it :P

»»——⍟——««

[verifiefangirl]

Ok, I just saw a headcanon that described Azriel as having DIMPLES, I screamed and had to share this, but just imagine him smiling at you with giant dimples in his cheeks, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Don’t touch me! This is making me soft. Please excuse the crappiness I had to expand on it! Not edited. 

It only appears when he’s fully smiling, which is something he doesn’t do often. It was only after a couple years of knowing Az that Elain saw those precious dimples. 

She was obsessed with them at first glance and did her best to make them reappear all the time. 

His whole face would light up and his body would physically open as he’d throw his head back in a deep, rumbling laugh. His raven hair shielding those mysterious hazel eyes. 

If Elain wasn’t already head over heels for him, she was now. 

Azriel didn’t even know that Elain had an ulterior motive to see him vibrating with joy. He didn’t know how much the flower grower adored those two indents in his cheeks. 

Cassian was the only other person who had witnessed the appearance of Az dimples. 

He happened to have caught Elain in an instance of her trying to make the spymaster laugh. A coy smile spreading over his features as he noted the glazed quality of her eyes as she fixated on those lips. 

Cassian silently also made it his mission to help Elain in her task. The next couple of months were just filled with Azriel’s rich, velvety laughter. 

Azriel was a bit self-conscious when he laughed and smile. Those shadows would weave a bit closer to his neck and cheek, in a gentle embrace. He wasn’t used to it. The feeling always startling him a bit. 

Elain’s favourite thing to do to make him laugh is to imitate the inner circle. Her best impressions being Rhys and Amren. Azriel would howl with laughter until tears would stream down his cheeks. No one had made him laugh like that in centuries. 

She would arch her eyebrows like Rhysie would do so much before pretending to shove her hand in a pocket and purring out “Feyre Darling.” 

At dinner one night she had made his small meat pie extra special and put a silly smiley face on the crust. No one else seemed to notice. 

Azriel kept shooting her looks, biting his lip to keep the bubbling snicker within. 

She would smile slyly back, glancing around furtively before lifting her fork in cheers towards him. That sent him and peals of laughter burst out of him as he gripped his belly. 

The sound startling everyone, Feyre gawking and choking on her own food as she too finally became aware of those dimples. 

Rhysies mouth would hang open and he would stare at his brother like he’d never seen him before. 

“You have dimples?!” 

tags:  @elriel-incorrect-quotes @thefangirlofhp @mamakramer @elrielllll @elriel4life @perseannabeth  @booklover242  @feeoly  @issiherondale @tswaney17 @lets-continue-testing @bunniesandbooks @1800-fight-me @pattyb324-blog @kaliejane26  @aclass-trash @wolffrising @allthestarswecansee @katexrenee @maheenmemon  @arwenbk3  @booksaremylife4eva @eternallyautumnal  @nerdperson524 @thatoneslytherinmuggleborn @alexisnm95 @the-song-of-the-wind @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @leulivy @goldbooksblack @actuallyacotartrash @feysandislife99 @mikaylamee @feeoly @julesherondalex @dannylothbrok @poisonous00 @nerdperson524 @lorcanswife @featherymalignancy @illyrianwitchling @booklover242 @mariamuses @empress-ofbloodshed  @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @maastrash  @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @sezkins79 @poisonous00  @humanexile @sleeping-and-books @highladyofidris @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @rhysanoodle @b00kworm @mysweetvilllain @nite0wl29 @mirainthedark05  @negativenesta @xprincess-oof17x  @hail-doodles @poisonous00 @fakenewtz @sleeping-and-books​ @nightbringer @highlady-brittney @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @

[anxiousstark]

S1 05 | Wolf’s Bane

MASTERLIST

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2958

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, swearing (always).

"So wait," I said while stealing some of Stiles's food. He pouted but offered his tray for me to grab some more. I grinned at him, and he stuck his tongue out as an answer. "You guys are telling me that Jackson knows that you are a puppy?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Ugh, I've been telling you since last night. I'm not a puppy." He was right, puppies are cute and not mean like him. "Uhm, he's watching us." Stiles and I glanced at the table where Jackson was sitting down with his friends. He was gazing at Scott.

Both boys tried to dissimulate, they were getting nervous. But I just continued to look straight at him. "I heard him." They looked at me, confused. "The night at school while I was with you." I glanced at Stiles. "Scott was talking to Allison. I heard him talk in my head. I heard Jackson talk to me inside my head. He knew I could hear him."

"Did he say something?"

"No," I answered back. "He just said that he knew I could hear him."

"Jackson's talking to me. He knows I can hear him. Look at me. Just talk to me. Act normal. Pretend that nothing's happening." Scott was getting even more agitated. "Can you hear him?" He asked me. "I think he kind of controls my thoughts or he can invade them. I only hear him when he wants me to."

Scott peered down at his tray of food, his eyes moving from side to side, and we assumed that Jackson was speaking to him. His hands clenched around the tray, and he ended up splitting it. "Scott," Stiles whispered when he noticed that everyone was watching us. Jackson wasn't in the same room anymore. "Listen. I'm going to go home and try to investigate. Keep an eye on Jackson and Y/N."

"I'm right here, Stiles."

"I know." He reassured. "Jackson wants something with you. We don't know what, but something is going on with both of you." He looked back at Scott. "You have swimming classes, right?" His attention was on me, I nodded. "Jackson and Allison go to the same class, so it is the perfect opportunity, okay?"

We both nodded, parting ways.

After changing into my swimsuit, I went outside, slowly getting into the water. I could see Scott sitting on the bleachers, his eyes focused on Jackson and Allison, who seemed to be talking. I started swimming slowly, enjoying the water. It was peaceful. When I was a child, I used to get into the public pool in my city and play around until I was exhausted. I would get into the water and imagine that my legs were transforming into a beautiful mermaid tail.

I noticed Scott getting uneasy, and I concluded that it was because Allison and Jackson were laughing while they rested on the side of the pool. "Hey, guys," I said when I swam next to them. "Jackson," I faked a smile. "I didn't know you were in the swimming class."

"I'm starting to like it a lot." He said while eyeing Allison. Quite gentle, Jackson. "I suppose you like it too." He said, glancing at me. "Is that a tattoo on your chest?" A tattoo? I didn't have any tattoos.

I was confused, looking down at my chest. Something red was there, and I tried to remember if I had scratched myself too roughly. My fingers softly touched my chest. It was hard.

"Oh my god," Allison said with a big smile. "It's so original. My dad would kill me if I decided to get a tattoo." She looked at it closely. "Are those scales? You must like water a lot to get scales on your chest."

I nodded while swallowing. I had scales on my chest. I peered at Jackson, he was grinning. My eyes searched for Scott, but he was too busy to meet my eyes. I needed to talk to Stiles. Now.

I ran to Stiles's house, and after talking a little with his father, I hurried upstairs. I opened the door of his room without giving it a second thought. He jumped from his chair, staring at me.

"Stiles, what the fuck is going on with me?" His eyes were wide, and they got even wider when I took my shirt off. I was still wearing my swimsuit. "What is this?" I went closer to him while he was getting further from me, pushing his feet against the floor, sliding the chair he was sitting on. "Are these scales?!"

His eyes went from my eyes to my chest, repeatedly. "U-Uhm." His eyes focused on my chest, cheeks getting red as seconds went by. "D-Derek." I saw something move behind me and turned around.

"You!" I pointed at him and went closer. "What is this?" I made a gesture so he would look at my chest. His eyes narrowed, hand moving closer to touch the scales on my chest.

"Woah, Woah." I heard the other boy getting up from the chair. Within seconds he was next to me, slapping Derek's hand before he could touch my chest. "W-what are you doing? D-don't touch her with your sourwolf hands!"

My chest rose up and down. "There are red scales on my chest. Jackson saw them, and he wasn't surprised about it." I paused to breathe. "They are hard. They are real scales, Stiles."

"Have they been there for long?" Hale asked while still looking at the scales.

"No. When I woke up this morning, there was nothing." I let my mind run. "I think they appeared in the swimming class."

"Okay." Derek swallowed, frowning. "I told you, I'm not sure what you are, I need time to investigate." His voice was firm. "I need to investigate a lot of things." I nodded, sitting on Stiles' bed.

"There are scales on my chest, and you are telling me that I'm not fully human, but you also want me to wait to know what the heck am I?" Derek hummed as if it wasn't that important. "What are you both doing here anyway?" I knew he didn't have any information. Not yet. That's why I tried to calm down and change the topic.

"The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison asking her to meet him there," Stiles explained to Derek.

"So?"

"So it wasn't Scott." He turned around and started clicking on his computer.

"Well, can you find out who sent it?"

"No, not me. But I think I know somebody who can."

I was sitting on Stiles's bed while he talked to Danny. He was cute, and he was part of the lacrosse team. I have never seen him before in school. Although, I have only been there for a couple of days.

"I came here to do lab work. That's what lab partners do." I snorted. Poor boy.

"And we will, once you trace the text." He was looking at him with his hazel puppy eyes, if it was me, I would probably have fallen and helped him with whatever he asked me for. But Danny was harder to convince.

"And what makes you think I know how?"

"He looked up your arrest report." I intervened while still laying down on the boy's bed. Danny glanced at me, his eyes knitted in confusion. "His dad is the Sheriff," I smiled. "And he is a hard-headed boy who always gets what he wants."

"I-I was 13. They dropped the charges." His voice cracked. Imagine being 13 and being able to do that. "No, we're doing lab work." Danny sat next to Stiles while I turned around to look at Derek.

"Does it mean that Jackson isn't human?" He glanced up from the book he was looking at. "Jackson was the boy I met the first day I came to Beacon Hills. We were both attacked that night at the video store. He has been...odd since that night."

"What do you mean?" He closed the book, letting it rest on top of his lap.

"He asked me if the wound was hurting." I paused. "He smelled like death." I swallowed, fiddling with my hands that were now resting on my lap. I needed to ask something, but I was scared that he wouldn't answer me.

"You don't smell like the dead." He replied as he knew what I was thinking. He sighed. "I'm not sure. I know werewolves, were coyotes, foxes, and a lot of creatures. I could identify their smell from afar. But I don't know what you are, yet."

"But you already knew I wasn't human anymore since that night, right?" My eyes searched for an answer in his. "You told Stiles to bring me to school the night that Scott howled." He nodded.

"Hey, Miguel." Stiles turned around in his chair, his gaze directed to Derek. I wanted to snort, but he was a werewolf and could probably rip my neck. "I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts." He made a gesture with his face to where his wardrobe was while Derek tightened his jaw; throwing the book to the bed and hitting my leg, bitch. Stiles was going to end up being killed by him. "So anyway, I mean, we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably-"

"Uh, Stiles?" Danny and I were completely distracted by Derek Hale, sorry, by Miguel, not having a shirt on. He was quite fit.

"Yes?"

"This. No fit."

"Then try something else on. Sorry." I rolled my eyes and went closer to Stiles, resting my hands on his shoulders, and whispering in his ear that Danny was gay.

Stiles got the idea. "Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think, Danny? The shirt."

"It's-it's not really his color." Derek took the shirt off. It wasn't his color, to be honest.

"You swing for a different team, but you still play ball. Don't you, Danny boy?" He grinned, while he went closer to our 'new friend'. "You're a horrible person."

I laughed loudly. "I know. It keeps him awake at night."

Stiles grinned at me, slapping one of my hands that were resting close to his chest. "Anyway, about that text."

"Stiles! None of these fit." I walked back to Derek and started looking inside Stiles's wardrobe. "Ugh, he only has plaids." I snickered. Their styles were too different, and their bodies weren't alike. Stiles wasn't bulk, but you could notice that he was fit.

"The text was sent from a computer. This one." After choosing a shirt for Derek, we went closer to both boys.

"Registered to that account name?"

"That can't be right." My eyes widened. Melissa McCall. It couldn't be her. Why would she do that? She didn't know anything about Scott being a werewolf, but she was the only one who could use her account in the hospital, right?

I was sitting in the back of Stiles's jeep while he and Derek were in the front. I tightened my arms around myself, feeling a little cold. Thankfully, Stiles had let me borrow one of his red hoodies, which calmed me down, even though I felt uneasy.

Derek clutched the phone and Stiles's hand, trying to talk to Scott, who was on the other line. "Hey, is there something on the back of it? There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening, something." Scott was in the lacrosse match while the three of us were sitting inside the jeep, and outside the hospital where Melissa worked.

"No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing." He now referred to Stiles. "And where are you? You're supposed to be here. You're first line." We heard Coach in the background, but what he was saying could not be understood clearly. "Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start."

"I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him-tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little bit late, okay? All right, thanks." I examined his face from the rearview mirror. Stiles was so excited to finally play lacrosse that he didn't mind that Coach was calling him Bilinski. But now, he wasn't going to be able to play.

"You're not gonna make it."

"I know." He talked fastly. "And you didn't tell him about his mom, either."

"Not till we find out the truth." As I believed, Stiles was a great friend. He was putting Scott's feelings before his. He was finally going to play, and his dad was going to be there to see him. He wanted his dad to be proud of him. I'm sure in his little head, he was thinking that his dad was going to be mad. Stiles's dad was already proud of him, I could tell. It must be nice to have a dad that loves you.

"By the way, one more thing."

"Yeah." We both turned our heads towards Derek. He had put his hand on the back of Stiles's head, and pushed him against the wheel, hitting him.

"Oh my gosh, Derek!" I hit his shoulder. "Stiles, are you okay?" "Oh, God! What the hell was-"

"You know what that was for. Go." He pointed at him. "You too." He was now looking at me, Stiles was already out of the car. "Go!"

"What?" I said. "Are you going to hit me too?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Because I will grab your fucking neck and-" I was pushed out of the car by Stiles. "No, no. He needs to be given a lesson." Stiles continued dragging me while Derek smirked, and I glared at him.

"Yeah, I said I can't find her." Stiles was on the phone talking. We both have walked around the hospital, but it was too quiet and there was nobody. We went inside a room, it was empty. "Yeah, well, he's not here either." I walked further into the room. Nothing. There were no personal items, and the bed was perfectly made. "He's not here. He's gone, Derek."

I hear Derek raising his voice from the phone. I turned around to find Stiles with wide eyes, his hand falling from his ear. "Y/N, we need to get out of here." He ran the little distance that was between us, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the room.

"You must be Stiles." I swallowed when I saw a man with a half-burnt face. His eyes glanced at me. "And you must be the new creature." Stiles grip stiffened on me. We both started walking backward, turning around to run away.

"What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over."

"You - and him. You're-you're the one who- Oh, my- and he's- Oh, my God, we gonna die." He ran his free hand through his hair. As soon as he said that, Derek appeared, elbowing the nurse on the face. She fell to the floor, unconscious or dead. I can't tell.

"That's not nice. She's my nurse." Peter Hale lectured. The day I was told that Scott was a werewolf, was the day they updated me of everything. And without knowing Peter Hale, I already hated him. "She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people. Get out of the way."

"Oh, damn." Stiles brought me to the floor, his chest pressing against my back as I was sitting between his legs. Derek's eyes became an ice blue, like mine were when we were at school the other night. His fangs came out, and I couldn't help but gasp.

"You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family? My mind, my personality was literally burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct."

They both started fighting. Peter threw Derek against the wall, creating a hole in it. Stiles and I started moving on the floor, trying to get away from them. We could still hear them fight, and it seemed like Derek couldn't hold up with Peter's strength.

Stiles started looking around. "What are you thinking?" I asked in a whisper. "Don't do anything crazy, Stilinski."

He continued searching around. "We need to help him."

"That is a psychopath. We are humans!" I tried to make him look at him.

"We are humans, but that doesn't mean we don't help." He grabbed a computer screen from a table, and with determination started walking towards Peter. Derek stared at me, his eyes then focused on Stiles when he saw my expression.

"Stiles!" I called for him but he continued to walk towards the oldest Hale. Peter turned around, smirking. He started walking towards Stiles. I got up from the floor, falling when I stepped over myself. I followed Peter with my eyes while I got up from the ground again. Stiles threw the computer screen at him, but Peter dodged it. His fangs came out, and he ran towards Stiles. But I did too.

I didn't know what happened. But I made a hole in the wall with Peter's body. My right hand was grasping around his neck, he was trying to set himself free, but he couldn't and gasped for air. "S-s-scales." I looked at the arm that was stretched out, choking him. Red scales decorated my wrist. I turned around, terrified by myself.

"Hey." My eyes went to Stiles. "You are okay. There's nothing wrong." Stiles came closer to me, and he made me let Peter go while Derek went to Peter.

"I-I don't know how I-"

"It's okay." He embraced me, my face hiding on his chest.

.

.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards​ - @cas-loves-pizza​ - @used-avocado​ - @mvrylee​ - @bilesxbilinskixlahey​ - @honeydoll-stark​ - @arieltheworldisamess​ - @softpeteparker​ - @kit-kat-katie99​​ - @thatsuperherosidekick​ - @bexbetterxthanxwords​ - @big-galaxy-chaos​​ - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer​ - @coldfreakeggsexpert​ - @merla123​ - @sammypotato67​​ - @weirdowithnobeardo​ - @maggiesblogsblog​ - @itskindyl​​ - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana​​ - @multifandxm353​​ - @irwxnhugsx​​ - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek​​ - @andreagf956 - @niawoods​​ - @anerroroccurrrrred​ - @perrytheplatypus11​ - @trustfundparker​ -

People in black means it doesn’t let me tag them.

[springtimebat]

A Family of Draculas

Chapter Two: Corpse Cradle

Note: This is a sequel to my post Babes in the Woods.

It all began on a strange Autumn day, confined to the mist and the thistles that conceal the woods in their thick fog, their addicting scent. In some ways, these events never ended. The woods remain the same. The sky continues to fill its space with monsters. And of course, the Corpse Cradle stands, as it has always stood, in the gingerbread house, hidden away from prying eyes, cloaked in ripped limbs, pulled intestines and dry blood.

The Corpse Cradle. How can I tell you about the Corpse Cradle? I should tell you about the time I fell in love. That’s a good place to begin.

It all began on my birthday. I had just turned sixteen years old.

On my sixteenth birthday, cracks began to appear in the morning sky. As we placed the candles on my cake, the wolves crept out of their caves to howl. The old, old air threw their shrieks into the wind like a strange radio signal. The Darling woman, her skin just scars and pores, sat by the stove as all this went on, warming her claws on the coals. I sat on my knees beside her, watching the sky from the kitchen window. The whistling, the whispers; they caressed my face with spidery palms.

The Darling women watched me as I succumbed to the winds. Her eyes were yellow and greedy.

“Do you know what this is, sourdough?” She asked, tossing a coal around in her talons. Her skin never burned. It didn’t matter how much she strained it, her skin never burned.

I rolled my eyes and twirled the morning breeze around my neck, enchanting it like a snake. The witch let go of the coal lump and it hit the kitchen rug beneath her with a thump.

“I just asked you something Dorothy-Mae. Would you care to repeat it for me?”

“You asked me if I know what this is,”

“Very good. Do you know?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea ma’am.”

“You should know. You of all people should know about this. After all, it’s all happening because of you.”

“Me?” I let the wind escape from my grasp and it loosened, grabbing onto my wrist, “What have I done now?”

“You’ve grown,” The old woman chuckled, “That is your problem. That is your curse to bear. You grow up,” She reached into a pocket and produced a slimy cigar from the shadows. She cackled at my scowling face, “You’re in so much trouble!”

I shot up from the floor and scraped my feet on the boards, “If you’re gonna be like this all day I’d much rather celebrate outside. You’re hopeless when you speak in riddles.”

“I,” The old woman coughed, “Do not speak in riddles. I speak in ominous fortunes.”

“And a fat load of good that’s got us. A run-down cottage and these woods.”

“And the corpse cradle.”

I shivered and pulled my shawl tighter on my shoulders, “Yep. There’s that too.”

“It’s been empty for three weeks Dorothy-Mae. It’s growing lonely. Soon it will be hungry.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

“I do hope you’re not shirking your responsibilities, my-little-Dorothy-Mae. After all, I’m old.”

“I hadn’t noticed ma’am.”

“I’m old. I’m old and I’m feeble. Could you imagine the fuss...the strife I would get myself into if I went out on a hunt. A hunt? Me? Never!”

I gulped, “I haven’t been avoiding it. No-one has come through the woods. No men let alone children. And the cradle favours the toddlers.”

“It does indeed,” By now the cigar was spent, yet the old woman continued to puff at nothing but the air, “The skin at its most plump.”

“Do you really wanna send me out on my birthday?”

“I need to send you out there on your birthday. If it isn’t filled soon it’ll try to take you next.”

I scoffed and walked away to grab my coat. The stand winked at me as I pulled at its sharpened tongs.

“Creep,” I growled.

“It knows a pretty girl when it sees one,” The witch grinned. I stuck my tongue out at her and headed to the front door.

“Oh, charming!” She cackled, and she strummed her hands in mid air, playing an imaginary violin.

“I try.”

“Think of this as my birthday gift to you. You never know what you’ll find in those woods, sourdough. The trees like you. You practically have them wrapped around your finger.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t eat all of the cake while I’m gone.”

There had been a white balloon tied to the front door and I took it with me as I walked. It was a kindred spirit in a world full of corpse cradles and winking coat stands.

“‘Tis a strange thing,” I said, “To be sixteen.” My balloon bobbed its head in the wind, “Then again, the world is a strange place and I suppose I’m a strange master,” I hesitated, then spoke up again,“You won’t have to put up with me for long. Just a few hours. Then I’ll let you go.”

We wandered through the hazel thicket and crawled across the marsh. The gingerbread house sat behind the fence, watching the shadows and the oaks. The trees stared back, curious.

“Ah well, who knows what we’ll find,”

I pulled myself through the moss and the damp, expecting to find the woods, trapping me within its confines again.

I greeted ash. Ash and bare fields.

“ Happy birthday to me.”

My balloon stopped abruptly, mid wiggle.

“Thanks for my present I guess.” I sighed, to no one in particular, “ I always wanted a garden.”

No-one answered. But someone was there. A body made up of carpet lay on the singed grass, their head curled into their shoulders like a turtle. I could hear their snoring as their breath rose and fell.

Sighing, I tugged on my balloon.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to cut this acquaintanceship short. Have wonderful times out there. I’m a better person for having known you.”

With that, the balloon flew into the smoke like a dove.

“There goes my only friend,” I mourned.

My present trembled in the dirt and I began my slow, agonising walk towards them. Reflecting on these moments, years after my walk ended, it all feels like I was paddling through water, through an ocean, towards them. The wind called to me to hesitate and yet I did not. I took fateful step after fateful step, treading cursed ground until I caught sight of their face. It was shrivelled, gazing at me through glazed, grey eyes. They looked stormy and exhausted. Gazing at this creature was like receiving cracked glass. The grey seeked out colour, found a brother in the wizened skies, then returned to earth, settling on me. As they caught the red on my dress they grinned with rotten teeth. I trembled and I swallowed. Crouched before me was the strangest person I’d ever seen.

{A break in the Narrative}

A Portrait of a volatile, violent, confused young man

Or: The Tale of the Man with a broken back

He was a boy forced into the floor; tired, confined to cages and bars. He was born with a crooked, broken back and glassy eyes, the shade of fading autumn grass.

I saw him and I fell in love.

{Exeunt}

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I looked at the man before me and pulled my coat tighter around me. He attempted to pry himself from the earth, a grin never leaving his thinned face, his eyes never leaving my own.

“Don’t do that. The threads will just tighten.” I whispered.

The man raised his eyebrows and stilled. I took a step closer.

“Have you come to rescue me?” He asked. He had the voice of a toad, low and croaky. I sighed and dug deep into my pockets. Slowly, I gripped my pliers.

“The earth has its claws deep inside you. I can see that, even from here, your heart has turned to clay.”

“It can do that?” His eyes widened and I hesitated.

“It can with the right persuasion,”

“Huh!” He exclaimed, ``That's the last time I take a walk in the woods!”

“Do you...do you know what lives in these trees?”

“You, I assume. Although after today that will change.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Because I plan on taking you back with me.”

“Oh?” I grinned, pulling his arm out of the earth’s grasp. It howled angrily in my ear, upset at losing its meal.

“You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

My grin widened and I stroked his head. His hair was matted and coarse like moss. His neck tensed and an awful crack soared through the air as he raised his free arm to me.

“How many women have you seen?”

“Many. And many women have seen me.”

“How tragic for them.”

“How tragic for me too. They’ve spoiled me for a lifetime. They could not prepare this carpet caterpillar for your arrival.” The strange man guarded by the ground flapped his patchwork torso around. I rolled my eyes and stretched out his leg, readying it for plucking.

“Eerie things live in these woods. Eerier than me. Creatures that would much rather eat you than bear to look at you. Monsters that could fit you on their fingertips”

“They may desire to do so,” The strange man continued, “But only you will get a chance to.”

“I could never eat a carpet caterpillar.”

“Your carpet caterpillar.” And with that he was free and he curled up in my open lap. It happened quickly, too quickly to properly register. We lay there in the dirt as if sleeping on satin. For a while, in my pickled mind, the skies were made out of stained glass and gilded in rose gold.

“How long have you been stuck here for?” I asked, twisting his hair in my open palms. He growled and shuffled closer. He was still wrapped in the carpet. Couldn’t seem to let it go.

“A long, long, long time,” Is all he said.

“You were not here yesterday when I went on my walk,”

“How unfortunate for me...and for you,”

“That thing smells unholy,” I frowned, pinching my nose. He mumbled something and stroked the confines of his old prison, almost disappointed.

“It was fine before you released me,”

“And now you’re free from the earth. Now you’re as human as the day you were born,”

“Not much then,” He sighed, and my heart caught in my throat.

“What are you made of?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grinned, “Carpets! Of all makes and sizes!”

“Of all fleshes, bones and eye sockets?”

“I am the Carpet Caterpillar of the woods!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. To the trees, to the sky, to the wind. It was then that I realised the man I loved was mad.

I pulled him down to eye level and wrapped his arms of cotton and linen around my neck. I got another evil smile in return, crackling like a fire in the fog.

“It’s not safe out here for you. I’m taking you home.”

“Hmm...is there food there?”

“We have cake,” I grinned.

He chuckled, “Aren’t you a treasure!”

And so I took my present to the Corpse Cradle

{A break in the Narrative}

The Corpse Cradle: A surface level study of a forest monster

The corpse cradle is as old as the dust and the ground, a mass of grass and tissue, clinging and feeding off of the dirt. It has eyes, it has lungs, it has teeth...or so I’ve been told. My caretaker found it when she inherited the woods and it has been steadily fed ever since, in order to keep our home. Sometimes it's sated by travellers, by men, by women, by monsters from other planes. But it loves children in particular. It holds onto their hearts in jars. It keeps discarded limbs flailing around its bodice, in order to live up to its name.

{Exeunt}

He stayed there for six months, having his flesh stripped away, his mind flayed by a monster he could not feel. His face went from fogged glass, to a violent pink, to a terrible purple. I sat by him and watched on and off, as his carpets withered away to thin linens. He never cried. He refused.

“It does this to test you, you know,” The Witch told me one day as we scraped flesh into the cooking pot. At first, I had stopped eating what the Cradle decided to share with us but my present had insisted that I take it.

“If I am to die,” He reassured me, “I would rather you eat this. I’d rather you collect me than her.”

I turned to my caretaker, the closest thing I had to a mother. The Corpse Cradle gurgled happily in the corner as it ingested my lover’s guts.

“Maybe it tests me too much,” I replied, trying to keep myself from vomiting.

Mrs Darling chuckled, “I find it funny that, for years now, you’ve eaten whatever the cradle has given us. It protected you, taught you, nurtured you, almost as much as me. You’ve grown up surrounded by dying things. Yet, this young man appears before you and you turn into a ghost, a silhouette of things past.”

“Perhaps it comes with age,” I said, grimly. The Witch’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t start with that nonsense. I don’t know why you’re so upset sourdough! The trees brought you fresh meat. They practically served him up on a platter…”

“They served him up to me wrapped in carpets. And he continues to wear them like a suit of armour!”

“He loves you.”

“Yes he does, though I have no idea why. We don’t know each other.”

“You don’t?”

“You know we don’t. I met him on my birthday!”

The Witch continued to stir the flesh in her cauldron. I would have pursued the conversation further but the Corpse Cradle decided that it was the appropriate moment to snap its prisoners back.

He had been in the Cradle for four months, the longest a creature had ever stayed, and Mrs Darling had started to think the woods had delivered an immortal to our doorstep. His rough skin was all gone now and he was just a mass of bones and rotten teeth. His spine had been severed and completely digested, leaving him to crawl around in the beast’s belly. His eyes were still in their sockets, but not for long. At night I sat with them in their cage, gazing at his face with a lantern. The confused stare was gone now. His eyes were now the shade of spring grass instead of dying winter. I stroked a rib that encased him and reached to caress his arm. He grabbed my own and held it to his jaw, growing tired in the dark.

He was angry, I knew that. I was angry too.

“Where will I go when I die?”

I swallowed, “I don’t know.”

He groaned. I could hear his neck crack, just like the day we met. My hand gripped his jaw tighter.

“I don’t know what you are. I don’t know what will happen. And…”

“You don’t know what to do,” He finished. I nodded reluctantly. His hand flew up to my own, fixated on his chin, and he caressed the grooves on my palms.

“Where will you go when you die?”

I sighed, relieved, “Oh that’s much simpler! I know exactly where I will go! When I die, I will go to the lonely places!”

“Lonely places?”

“Yes! Lonely corners and corridors of the world. I’ll float and dance on the air with my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“I do. I was a twin. We were born minutes apart but he was...different.”

“Different like you or…”

“He was born with fangs and glowing eyes. He had shaggy, silver fur instead of skin. He died soon after my mother gave birth. A few minutes later, she followed him.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Sometimes. When I’m lonely, I like to wonder what my life would be like if he lived. If we’d be here together, if we’d love each other, even like each other. Maybe, if he had lived, if he had gone on to grow, our father wouldn’t have given us up. Maybe we would still be together, playing by a creek.”

“I’m sure your father misses you. I can’t understand how he could give you up. And to a witch of all people!” I chuckled, “My father cannot feel. You will never understand. I’m not human. I never have been. Unicorn silk flows and pulses through my fingers. I hold electricity on my tongue. I am what I am because of my father. The only person my father could love died giving me life and it left him cold, frozen in time.”

“You do love to speak in monologues don’t you?”

I giggled and stroked his cheek, “Sometimes.”

“I tell you what,” He announced, shifting in the shadows to press his frame to me, “When I die, I’ll come back to you as a spirit!”

“You can’t determine that!” I cackled.

“You don’t know that I can’t! Perhaps we’re able to decide what we do once we’re gone. I’m a person of little consequence, slowly being devoured by a forest beast! Whatever awaits won’t care for someone as pathetic as me.”

“You’re not pathetic.”

“And I’m not leaving you alone.”

He lowered his haggard hand to my abdomen and tugged at the folds of my dress.

“What colour is it?” He asked.

“Are you losing your sight?”

“What colour is it?”

“Red.”

“Red. Like the day you found me. It’s come full circle hasn’t it?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“If I get the chance to, I will come back to you. I wish to belong to you always. But if I can’t get back to you, Can I at least give you something to remember me by?”

My eyes grew large and I took a step back from the cage. He clutched at the bars of his prison and I could see how hopeful his gaunt, torn face was.

“You really are arrogant aren’t you? Of all the things to wish for! Is that really your last request? Because that’s what this is, your last request! A child...my child? It’ll be…”

“Beautiful,” He whispered, smiling at my flushed face, “It’ll be beautiful.”

I grabbed onto his arm again and sighed.

“I don’t understand why you love me so much. I could have had as many men as I liked, you’ll never know. Honestly, you don’t know the first thing about me.”

“You still haven’t figured it out have you?”

“I haven’t figured out what?”

“The woods gave you to me, right? I am your present and I was designed for you, placed in the ground for you to take. I’m a gift and as such I am a non-entity. I’m just an object. The woods must have thought you were lonely and created me in response.”

“Why-why would they do this?”

“You’re a daughter of the air. You don’t belong here. They’re apologising,”

“You’re-you’re an object?”

“I might as well be.”

I took a deep breath, “I will miss you when you’re gone. I never wished for you but I will miss you as if I did.”

“I’ll miss you too,” My present hesitated and his hands fell to the floor.

“What do you want to say?” I asked, reaching to hold his palms again.

“Can I lie with you tonight?”

I swallowed and stood. Then I slid the heavy doors of the Corpse Cradle ajar.

“Just for tonight.”

He died two months later on a Thursday. I had brought him breakfast early in the morning and discovered that his skeleton had fallen apart. Rain began to fall as the Witch and I burned his remains in the cauldron. My eyes stayed locked on the Corpse Cradle, gluttonous and smug in the corner. It had grown heavy on my lover’s flesh and turned around like a lazy dog in the sun.

“It’s better this way, my Dorothy-Mae,” Mrs Darling reassured, lifting kneecaps from the brewing stew and stuffing them into my pockets, “He wasn’t long for this world anyway. One can only live on lust for so long.”

I didn’t respond. I continued to watch the Cradle.

“Must say, he had beautiful eyes. Like leaves. I almost wish the Cradle hadn’t gobbled them up!” The Witch cackled. I rolled my eyes and gripped the new chain around my neck. Mrs Darling followed my fingers and realised that the very eyes she longed to own were wrapped around my neck.

“He wanted me to have them,” I explained, “Besides, you have enough eyes to gorge yourself on.”

“Don’t be rude sourdough.” She growled.

“He never loved me, you know.”

“Of course he did! He was created to love you!”

“That’s just it. He never had a choice.”

“And no one ever will.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You enchant almost everything you come across. That’s exactly why I took you in. Look at how you’ve manipulated the forest, the very trees! It mourns right along with you! In a couple of years who knows what you will be able to do! I can teach you how to control the rain, twist the wind around your pinky finger! I can teach you how to make yourself stronger!”

“I don’t care about all that,” I scowled, “I’ve lost a friend.”

“There will be others. I’m sure the woods will leave another gift on your next birthday, since you enjoyed this one so much.”

“No. There won’t be anyone quite like him.”

I tugged at my dress, pulling down the skirt hem. The witch followed my gaze to my belly and she sneered.

“Dorothy, please do not tell me that you-” She began to vomit in her mouth, “Please do not confess to me…”

“Yes. I did. And I’m expecting,”

“You stupid, stupid girl! You do realise what that boy was? That boy was linens! That boy was clothing! He was about as human as a raincoat!”

“He was to you. But he wasn’t to me. He was a person that I let down.”

“The Cradle won’t stand for this! You know it’ll take the baby!”

“If it’s human. But I’m not sure it will be.”

“It will take the baby away just to spite you.”

“I’ll kill it.”

“Of course you will.”

“It will die eventually. Won’t it? Nothing lives forever.”

“Perhaps. I’d say the woods have taught you a lesson after all.”

I scowled at her.

The fire began to die and Mrs Darling stirred the stew with a wooden spoon. I peered inside. My lover’s bones had disappeared, melted into black tar.

“I won’t eat it.”

“I don’t expect you to, sourdough. From now on you will eat only the healthiest of meals. We need to keep the baby happy. However strange it may be, it's still our responsibility. Lord knows, the father will be completely useless in raising it!”

“We fed the father to a forest monster ma'am.”

“That couldn’t be helped. Anyway, I’ll set out to find some fresh meat in a few days, once you begin to tire. This here is a delicacy!”

With that we sat down on the ground together, huddled in our gingerbread house. It almost felt like days of old. The Witch began feasting on my lover’s remains while I tugged at the chain around my neck, tugged at the man’s eyes, twisted his tensed muscles and nerves in my hand.

“I will kill it one day,” I whispered sorrowfully, “I will kill it for what it’s done to me.”

The Witch said nothing, just directed her focus to the sky outside. The Corpse Cradle gave a vindictive growl.

[charlthotte]

Breaking Through the Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 11

Beside me, I could sense Aone's pure fretfulness. His exterior exerted his usual stoic presence, yet the smallest draft of a broken child drifted through the cracks in his skin. Second after second, those cracks grew larger and larger until he seemed frail enough to snap. But we were outside, in the blatant view of the rest of the world - from what I knew - Aone wasn't a person to let his guard down in front of just anyone, somehow I felt the exact same way. But I was certain that the reason behind him was something entirely opposed to mine, perhaps it was something even darker.

I tried to shake myself out of my deep pondering, it was selfish to think about myself in a time where Aone was trekking through the furnaces of hell - and he needed me to accompany him on that adventure. I was certain that he couldn't do it alone, he'd break. There wasn't a more eloquent way of putting that statement, nor could you sugar-coat it. 

Roaring skies bellowed up above us, winds howled in agony - all of their lamentations lashing and tearing through the atmosphere; almost biting at our skin, shredding our outwards protection into ribbons of devastation. Those deafening bellows closed off my hearing almost entirely, I couldn't hear anything - let alone my own thoughts.

Throughout the whole journey, the winds kept us separated, no matter how valiantly I quested to ameliorate his feelings... I just couldn't reach them. Normally, a trip to the vet shouldn't have caused Aone's level of anxiety, so maybe... It was so much more than just a trip to the vet. 

Hesitantly, my fingers gingerly edged the door open, shrouding us both in a whole new light of apprehension. The ring of the entrance bell almost seemed deafening - breaking the agonisingly tumultuous silence. Everything was unreal. No, I didn't understand the situation to the fullest extent; but somehow, deep inside of me - I just knew. Soon, we were welcomingly ushered into the establishment by a woman in a lab coat. Her hazel eyes oozed with the highest volume of empathy that I had ever witnessed, somehow she knew to be gentle with Aone, as if she knew him well.

Almost in a chain of reactions, we were now sat down in the waiting area - side by side in silence. A gargantuan urging churned inside of me to console him, in any way possible; a pat on the shoulder; some words of sympathy or maybe simply the warmth of another human against him, so that he knew he had at least one shoulder to weep upon. Almost identical to the situation beforehand - Aone began quivering, but ever so slightly. And as always, I was the only person in the nearby vicinity that could notice exactly how he felt. As if on instinct, my arm shot upwards to wrap it around Aone's shivering shoulders, but at least the the farthest that I could reach. 

His whole body jolted at my touch, almost as if he had recently been snapped back into the current reality. Quicker than a blink of an eye, his eyes snapped over to rest upon me, their unnatural glossiness glimmering underneath the light - searching for the slightest scrap of comfort to latch onto.

Never before had I gazed upon his face in a manner such as that, to me, he seemed a new person entirely. Not a single aspect on his face had been altered, however, there was just something inside of me that didn't recognise him. My eyes darted around until they latched straight onto his. At that point - I had the slightest inkling to avert my gaze, but I just couldn't, - there was something inside of him, scraping and pleading for just that one moment of comfort. And that was when he had located that source of comfort, in me, no less. His whole figure softened as if he had lost his skeleton. He was but an empty vessel of what he was before.

---

The amount of time that flew past us was unfathomable, almost immeasurable. Time was always supposed to sprint forwards when you were enjoying yourself, and at that moment, both of those aspects were completely averse to the latter. The pure trepidation we were both enduring stretched out the time to the extent where a second was a terribly drawn out eternity.

"Mr. Aone Takanobu." The same woman that had greeted us spoke into the drab atmosphere. Within her eyes, I could sense something close to pity, all beneath the surface of empathy.

Gingerly, I rose from the chair, my legs almost buckling underneath me - but I knew, that I was the one who couldn't show any weakness, I was Aone's pillar of reassurance. If I toppled over, so would he; but his crash to the earth would be much more crushing. A faint tug rippled through the sleeve of my coat - Aone was gripping onto the fabric as if it was some sort of a lifeline for him. It was almost as if he was a terrified child cowering behind their mother. Even though he stood inches above myself, he didn't appear that way - his aura omitted that of a child, but not just any child, a scarred child, apprehending the worst.

As we were led to the veterinarian's office, sounds of weeping animals and humans echoed through the air, nothing was normal, nothing felt... right. The lady beckoned for us to take a seat, and the whole manner in which she conversed with us in simply unnerved me. Nothing was typically out of the ordinary - but it was at the same time.

Her shoulders rose and fell slowly, as if she was bracing for the impact of something intense. She began, "We have examined Shiro to the best of our abilities, however there was little to do for him. The symptoms he has displayed cannot match up with any diagnoses that we could offer you. To put it in simple terms, there is nothing much that we can do to help him."

Everything froze.

Everything froze, all except Aone and I. We were the only people in the world.

Almost instantly, Aone's eyes cascaded tears of sorrow, there was nothing to stop them from doing so. 

In the adjacent second, his body collapsed upon me for support, now was the time for his pillar to be there for him. Full instinct loomed over all my emotions, and I didn't even need to think of what to do next, I just simply... Knew... My one arm that wasn't already around his shoulders shot straight up to his hair - ruffling the tiny tufts gently. Twisting and curling a few of his ashen locks around the tip of my finger. The other presence in the room didn't matter to me as Aone's sturdy figure spluttered and choked inside of my arms. The amount of pain I was feeling due to the news that had recently been bestowed upon us was immense. But I couldn't even begin to imagine the sheer dosage of agony that he was going through, he had easily been close to Shiro for years and years at that point. Shiro seemed like the only living thing that Aone felt truly comfortable around, and now he was going to lose him.

Stinging slightly, my eyes began to be tickled by tears, threatening to surge over my eyelids - but a pillar can't crash. Aone's sobs rang out through the room, and then - not only was the news agonising, but so were the sounds of his fretfulness, perhaps even more so. Both our chests quivered in a calamitous rhythm, creating a song of desolation.

Breaking us out of our own little world, the lady almost whispered, "I'm guessing that you understand what I've said... I am extremely sorry to tell you this but, I don't think Shiro can last any more than a week living on this earth. However, we will supply him with some antibiotics to make his passing easier... Once again, I am so sorry."

What she said couldn't register with either of us, both of us being too occupied by the other's embrace.

I endeavoured to try and find Aone's eyes inside my own, only to see a harsh reddish hue emblazoned across them. He was a broken doll. I couldn't bear seeing him just so... hopeless. Therefore, in an effort to calm his lamentation, my hands hesitantly cupped themselves around his damp and blotchy cheeks, caressing my thumbs over them - wiping away his tears as I did so. He sank into them, using my hands as his only source of support.

"Aone... I can't imagine the amount of pain you're feeling right now: I know that Shiro is your best friend. I can't fathom losing someone close to me, especially if they're as close as you two are. You're inseparable. But, Aone... Please don't weep so. Shiro would want you to be happy, as he is still here with you... Even if not for much longer. I'm just so... sorry" I smiled hopelessly at him, trying to offer him the smallest shard of contentment that I could. Jittering, his palm cupped over one of mine, gyrating uncontrollably. I knew, in turn, he was attempting valiantly to comfort me too.

Nodding shakily, he spoke up for the first time since we had been at my house, "T-thank you, (Y/N)." His whole body jittered up and down with each one of his breaths - if you could call them that. Each one was so breathy, as if he was gasping for air. He was already drowning though. And I didn't know if I could save him.

---

After at least a quarter of an hour of consoling Aone, we were finally allowed to see Shiro again, finally allowed to set our eyes upon that perfect life form that only had a small cache of days left on this Earth. His little body scampered down the hallway - and straight into Aone's arms, placing his paws upon his shoulders; wagging his tail at a breakneck speed. It was as if they hadn't seen each other for months... maybe years. Pure longing laced itself into Aone's expression, exuberating immense levels of elation - yet still exerting a hidden sense of dejection. 

With a snap of the fingers; his tears had miraculously evaporated, freeing him - but not completely - from his lamentation. Every hair on his body stood on end, smiling an unfiltered grin from ear to ear, babying Shiro with his words.

That sight was truly gorgeous, the two clutched onto each other as if the world was about to end, and it was about to. But only for him.

Overwhelming joy flushed through me - making my heart skip several beats. Dropping to my knees, I positioned myself adjacent to Aone, beckoning for Shiro to come over to me. And even though Shiro and myself had hardly known each other for a week, he still leapt into my arms all the same. His hazel eyes glimmered in the artificial light, outputting something childlike and innocent. Running my hands up and down his fur, I noticed how soft it was, not a single strand was the littlest bit coarse.

I began to laugh under my breath, but I couldn't understand why. Was it grief? Was it apprehension? Or was it happiness? A single tear rolled down my left cheek, and once again - I didn't understand why.

Cheery howling flew through the air, ebbing out from Shiro's mouth; and all of a sudden he had cranked up his volume of giddiness to a whole other level. Jumping up and down on his two hind legs, he gathered enough force to knock me over - and abruptly I laid on the laminate floor of the veterinarian's with Shiro bounding around over and on top of me. Almost winding me at one point.

Every ounce of lamentation had disappeared from the establishment - replaced by an aura of pure joyousness. Very soon, we were beginning to overstay our welcome - therefore we hooked him up to his lead and set out, once again, out into the outside world.

[word-addict-lisette]

So this was requested by one of my mutuals!

Read below the cut to check out the first chapter of my book which i recently started writing. I would love any type of feedback or Comments. You can freely point out any errors and tell me how you like and might as well give me some tips on how I can make it better! Either way If you are reading this, Thanks a lot for taking some time to go through this chapter which is inspired from something my friend experienced.

There might be a few triggered warning in this and there are mentions of bloodshed and physical injuries! Death mention!

Vess's breathing was significant as she ran through the forest, trying to make her steps light. It had rained a few minutes before, making the leaves moist that worked in her favor since they failed to crunch underneath her feet.

 Vess stopped for a second behind a tree, attempting to catch her breath as she tried to listen over her adrenaline-filled veins and palpitating heart for any noise. Sweat dripped down her bruised face inflicting tiny scratches and cuts to sting. And then suddenly, out of the blue, a strangled scream erupted through the forest. It took Vess everything in her to prevent herself from letting out a cry herself as she recognized that scream to belong to one of her cabinmates. Unluckily, Vess began to possess a scare right there as she crumbled to the ground. Terror gripped her heart, and her hands started quivering uncontrollably. And, her body convulsed in sobs.

 It had all happened so quickly. The school was having an innocent field trip to their nearby island, a nice little boat ride bringing them over in two groups. They planned to have easy hikes and sleep peacefully in allotted cabins for a week. But then there was screaming, so much screaming, as bullets rained the camp and students scattered into the woods.

 Vess had been ready to head to the showers when she heard the cries of her peers and the panic-stricken voices of flummoxed students telling each other to run away since the assailant was making his way through the campsite.

 So, Vess ran into the woods. She ran so far and so quickly, thankful for her training on the cross country team, but it was not enough. Vess could still hear the blood-curdling screams of the high-schoolers and the sound of bullets. She was not safe.

Vess's short brown hair was sweaty, flying into her face ever so often and obstructing her vision.  Her jaded brown eyes visibly expressed how worn out she was. Having grown up in a well-to-do family, Vess lived in Texas and grew up as an only child, but she had never felt lonely because of her loving parents. She was often called the perfect kid, intelligent, tall, and beautiful. But she had her fair share of problems, especially her anxiety and depression disorders, though she was not aware of long she had had those problems. It seemed forever that she had been taking anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills. Vess had learned to love herself the way she was, brunette, brown-eyed with sunkissed skin, tall, introverted, and not to mention slightly awkward

 But Vess was enervated. No food, no water, and only the clothes on her back. Her shoes were just her regular sneakers because they could not hold up well against the thick forest. But, that was not what scared her, no. Vess was not scared of dying neither of malnutrition. She was afraid because she was alone. Any people that she heard were just their screams before their impending death.

 It should just be a nightmare Vess thought, as she sat trembling on the ground, just a scenario out of one of her video games. But the sharp pain in her legs and her uneven breathing told her that this was her reality. So she hoped and prayed that someone would come to get her because she had no idea how she was supposed to get up by herself.

 And then, she heard footsteps. She frantically tried to cover her mouth since her breathing was yet to calm down but to no avail since the thought that the killer could be close caused her breath to become sporadic and uncontrollable once again.

 Her eyes went wide as someone stood in front of her, the next thing, Vess knew she was dead. She scrunched her eyes as she hoped that her death would be quick and painless, but then she felt the person kneel in front of her. So, she opened her eyes.

 The sight in front of her caused tears to run down her eyes because finally, she recognized the person and he was not dead and nor was he the killer. Which meant Vess was no longer alone. The blonde boy in front of her seemed to be eyeing her with great concern. As her brown orbs flickered up to look into his hazel ones, she couldn't help but lunge at him.

 "Kaiden," she gasped as she held onto his neck, almost crushing him in her arms. But Kaiden hugged her just as tightly as he patted down her hair. "Vess, we are not safe here. We have got to go quick, I think a staff member was able to call the police but we do not know long they will take to get here and if they will be able to find us in the woods in the time."

 She nodded her head, wishing she could stay here in his embrace a little longer but she knew that Kaiden was right and they were not safe where they were currently.

 "Let's go," he whispered.

They held each other's hands and started running.

 "I'm tired.", Vess told Kaiden as she gasped for breath.

 They'd been running for over forty minutes now and Vess had just been following Kaiden's lead since the forest was new to her. She hadn't even remembered which direction their cabins were in since she was so panicked when she left the campsite.

 "I know, just a little more." Kaiden was breathing heavily as well. "we're almost at the lake where we can drink some water and take a break."

 Vess looked to her right, where she saw the sun setting, signifying that it would soon be nighttime and they were going to have to survive in the forest without any light. They hadn't heard any noises since they started running, from where Kaiden had spotted Vess, which they weren't sure was a good thing.

 Finally, they saw the lake and went up to the edge with the trees still covering them so they weren't in the open. However, the sun had gone down, making it hard to see. The air was thick with mist, and the moon appeared incandescent in the inky night sky. The wind howled unnervingly, and the trees swayed as though they were performing a peculiar dance.

 "I think we are safe for now," Kaiden said as Vess cupped her hands into the lake and furiously gulped down the water. "We can rest here but do not drink the water too fast or you will throw up, Vess."

 "Ok," she whispered as she sat back and drank more cautiously.

 "Let us sleep here until the sun rises, then we can start going again. There is supposed to be another campsite north of the lake we will be able to get help there."

 Vess simply nodded as she let her thoughts run freely. She wondered where in the world the police were and whether or not the attacker was still looking for prey. She turned to Kaiden and noticed that he had already closed his eyes and laid down in front of a tree so she laid down beside him and closed her eyes as well.

 But every time she closed her eyes, she could not help but imagine that the killer was coming closer and would appear in front of her out of nowhere if she kept her eyes closed any longer.

 Kaiden had noticed that Vess's breathing had not turned light just yet and twenty minutes had already passed by, so he opened his eyes to talk to her.

 "Vess, you need to sleep. We need the energy to get to the other campsite tomorrow."

 "I know, I just cannot.", she replied truthfully, "What if he sees while we are sleeping? We will be vulnerable."

 Kaiden sighed, "Do not worry, we are safe here, alright? Plus we have not heard anything in a while."

 Vess nodded but still refused to close her eyes, which Kaiden noticed.

"Hey, listen.", He opened his arms so she could lay comfortably on his chest as he talked to her soothingly. "I will watch for a while until you fall asleep so that I can make sure we are safe, okay?"

Vess curled up against Kaiden for warmth and he took that as a sign that she would finally sleep.

The other morning, Vess woke up to the sun in her eyes. She had almost forgotten about the situation at hand until her hunger-stricken stomach reminded her. But without a second thought, she reached out in her pocket and fetched out a small pouch. Opening it, she quickly took two pills out of it and swallowed them along with a gulp of water from the lake, then turning her attention towards Kaiden.

She shook him awake, "Kaiden, the sun is up."

He opened his eyes and smiled at Vess, something she would never understand how he could do, but she smiled back.

"Drink some water before we leave. I am not exactly sure where the next place that has water will be."

And then they were on their trek once again. As they made their way north, they walked at a fast pace, no longer having to run since the killer's location was unknown. For all they knew, the killer could be caught.

After walking for four hours under the heat of the burning sun, Vess gasped as she saw the tips of cabin roofs.

"Look, Kaiden.", she pointed excitedly, "I see the camp!"

Kaiden looked up with a light in his eyes was lit as they quickly made their way over. The hope and excitement that they would finally be safe filled up in their chests. But as quick as it had lit, the fire in them got snuffed out.

The whole camp was quiet. There was not a single sound, but that was not the problem. Bodies were lying all over. The cabins and ground splattered in blood. And the smell of deteriorating bodies filled the air.

"N-no.", Vess muttered as tears started obstructing her vision. Her pulse accelerated while she held her breath. Was her imagination playing tricks on her? Nevertheless, she put on a brave front and braced herself.

"The assassin was here.", Kaiden could not believe his eyes.

Vess looked around in pure horror. Never has she ever expected herself to land in a situation as such. But now that she was here, she knew she had to make it out alive.

Kaiden and Vess decided on looking for supplies that could come in handy to them during their little escapade, and with that, they made their way to the cabins.

Vess closed her eyes and relaxed her breathing to try and calm herself down from her overwrought composition. "Do you think there are any survivors?"

Kaiden was dubious of what to reply. So he decided that it would be better to look around and see for themselves than make assumptions.

Although Vess looked through cabins for supplies and stuffed them in a backpack, she did not dare search bodies as Kaiden did. By the time they had finished rummaging through the cabins, they both had one bag each. They ate some canned food they found in one of the cabin leaders' rooms, stowing the rest in their backpacks. But sadly enough, they could not find any survivors.

"Do you think anyone survived from our campsite?" Vess questioned out loud.

"Yeah, probably. For all, we know people survived from this campsite as well, they are just running like we are, " Kaiden replied optimistically.

The thought helped Vess's state of mind but she still couldn't help but think of the worst. Vess was not sure of what their next step would be, and neither was her mind in the right state to the plot of a plan. So she left that task for Kaiden.

After a few minutes of decisive thinking, they finally came up with a strategy. According to what they knew... the school trip would be over by Friday, which meant they are supposed to be back home by Friday afternoon. But, if somehow the police weren't called yesterday, they were just going to have and wait it out. Since the school or others won't send someone to check after them unless they realize that the school did not show up on Friday afternoon. This meant that they were going to have to keep going.

"We should head towards the docks. In case if someone comes, we can quickly call for help." Vess suggested.

"Yeah, true. We should have enough food and water for a little over a week but just in case, we should ration what we have because we don't know if we'll be able to find more food." They agreed.

So, off they went, on another trek North towards the island borders and its docks. Vess tried not to let her hopes up too high since they weren't a hundred percent sure they would find help. However, she did hope that they would run into more survivors. Although she was thankful she had Kaiden, she couldn't bear the idea that they were the only two that escaped.

Kaiden attempted to make small talk as he asked her about whom she had rooming. She did not elaborate much but told him she had been assigned a room with a couple of girls from her bio class. She hadn't known then well, but they had gotten along well enough. That was all she said as she thought back to their first day.

Kaiden thought that was cool and mentioned that he had gotten paired with his best pal, Theo. The two of them had been quite close for the past few years. But, Kaiden had somehow lost him since they weren't together when-... he did not complete that sentence as he grimaced at the abhorrent thought

Vess didn't know how to reply. And she did not need to because a little ahead they saw a trail of smoke in the sky.

"Do you think that fire is made by other people or by another campsite?" Vess asked hopefully.

"It could be the killer," Kaiden answered.

But Vess found it hard to believe: why would the killer need a fire? He should have left the island by now unless he had another purpose to serve here.

Kaiden could not help but agree after pondering over the thought for a while and thought it would be better to check it out since it was not a long detour from where they were heading.

Once they started going closer to smoke, Kaiden and Vess peeked over the bushes to see a campfire with backpacks and tents. But no people. Just as Vess was about to tell Kaiden that they should just keep heading to the docks, they got tackled from behind.

 Vess let out a startled squeak as she toppled to the ground, her attacker placing their weight onto her. Dirt covered her vision but from what she could hear, Kaiden was in a similar predicament.

"Wait, Vess?", The person let go of Vess's arms. Vess did not waste a minute and furiously wiped at her eyes. Hope grew in her as she recognized the voice.

"Aletha! OH MY GOSH!" She exclaimed out of astonishment on sighting the dark-haired girl.

And just as quickly as Vess had gotten tackled, Aletha was brought to the ground by the sheer force of Vess's hug as she launched herself at Aletha.

 Vess found it hard to express how glad she was to see that Aletha, her long-time friend, had survived as she practically started crying.

Aletha laughed at Vess before admitting she was equally glad to see Vess.

Aletha and Vess had always had a close friendship, Vess had met Aletha during her middle school, and they had both stuck around each other since they were ten. Aletha, The petite dark-haired, blue-eyed girl, had always had Vess's back. On the other hand, Vess couldn't have been more grateful to have her by her side. 

Vess looked over to Kaiden who was now talking with Theo, the person who was apparently with Aletha, who was Vess's close friend. And after that, it was not long before they were all caught up in a deliberate conversation.

"Where were you guys when it all started?" Vess asked as all four of the teens walked over to the campsite to check if it was inhabited.

"I was at luncheon and found Aletha when I was going through the backdoor. She was trying to pull it open when it was a push door." Theo teased.

Theo had always been the most light-hearted of them all. His tall, gangly body and humor had always made him a favorite for most. His curly jet black was always a mess, while his soft and glassy brown eyes were always welcoming. He wasn't the smartest, but he knew enough to survive his first few months of high school until he ended up trapped in the present situation.

"HEY! I was panicking, all right?" Aletha turned to Vess, "For some reason, Theo and I were the only ones to think of going through the back door and towards the forest. The others ran right out the front to the killer."

Vess gasped as Kaiden shook his head. Kaiden revealed how he had found Vess in the woods. He added that he had been alone when he left the restroom since the others were in the recreational center.

Vess confirmed that she had been on the run from the showers. Aletha could not help herself and spoke the question that was lingering in all of their minds, "You think the assailant is still on the island?"

"I'm not sure. It would be kind of dumb for the killer to stay since we are hundreds of kids on a scheduled field trip so the cops are bound to come searching for us, but he could be if he wants to try to prove a point and wants to run into the police," Kaiden said.

Theo felt the need to point out the fact that Kaiden mentioned the killer to be a male. He wanted to know how Kaiden surmised that the killer was a male. But Vess replied, "I mean, how likely would the killer be a woman?" but Theo was not convinced.

Aletha looked up at the sky that was getting darker and questioned Kaiden about what their plan was. Kaiden gave them a summary of their plan asked them about their view.

"We were going to head towards another campsite and sadly, it was in the same state as ours. So, all we were able to do was get supplies." Theo answered solemnly.

"Oh, we ran into that campsite too after we passed the lake," Vess said. That puzzled Theo, he wondered, had they gone south instead of continuing north? He voiced his thought in hopes of getting an answer. Vess clarified that they had gone north when they ran into a campsite before continuing on their way.

Theo and Aletha shared a look before Aletha started speaking. She told them that the campsite they had run into was south of the lake, which caused Kaiden to let out a gasp. 

In an epiphany, they understood that the killer had hit three camps. Since the campsite into which Kaiden and Vess ran was north of the lake.

"How many campsites are even there on this island?" Vess asked.

Everyone shrugged, not knowing the answer.

"Damn, I regret not taking one of that brochure thing with the map on it," Theo groaned.

Aletha wondered how the assassin could have attacked three camps without even one call making it to the authorities. Theo stated the obvious, "Unless there is more than one attacker. What if there was a group of attackers?"

Everyone grimaced. Everyone deeming of the same thought: this better not have anything to do with terrorists cause they are ruthless and never play around.

" Though, why would they attack us?" Vess asked.

Theo scoffed, "Why on earth do they even attack anyone?"

"Wow, we might be into some deep trouble. Dear God, tell us they are not here to prove a point and are on this island still," Aletha sighed.

"True, but I think that before we go to sleep, we should check this campsite once, it looks like people stayed here. Mostly they are still there. what do you say?" Theo suggested.

The others nodded, following behind him to the camping site. And with that, the group of fourteen-year-olds headed towards the campsite. 

Reaching near, they could see that the bonfire had extinguished, and there a few tents, backpacks, and trekking supplies lying hither and tither. 

They made their way to the site and decided to search through the tents. They decided to check it for any supplies while keeping an eye out for survivors and the killer.

"This area looks like it was inhabited recently. Maybe the inhabitants are somewhere nearby," Kaiden yelled out from inside a tent.

"I will not suggest going out to find them because the last thing we need is finding that this camp belongs to the assassins," Vess contradicted, "Just gather the essentials and find a place to spend the night."

The others agreed and continued gathering supplies. 

Vess was packing extra necessities into her backpack when she noticed there had been piercing silence for a couple of minutes. The derelict camp stood there lifeless. She bit her lip to stop her teeth from chattering like castanets. She was experiencing anxiety. Her throat was dry, and her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth.

A terrifying thought haunted her, the feeling that the camp belonged to the killer. She feared he had gotten hold of her friends and now was coming at her. She sucked in a sharp breath and hoped that her suspicions were not true and just hallucinations.

Frozen to the spot in which she was standing, Vess would not dare move or even let out a single sound, let alone a harsh exhale. As she heard footsteps nearing, she screwed her eyes shut, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath sporadic, and with trembling hands, she prayed for a quick death. 

As she stood glued to the spot, she was startled by another ominous sound. A portentous shuffling of steps and whispers made her blood run cold. Was it a trespasser? The noise was originating from outside the tent. Her palms turned cold and clammy, and her heartbeat quickened. She had a premonition of imminent danger. She was probably reading too many horror novels, she reasoned with herself. She also had a very inveterate tendency of making a mountain out of a molehill. Placating herself thus, she headed towards the opening flap of the tent, opening it warily, and peaked outside. There was nobody there. In the dark, the trees looked like behemoths that were staring at her spookily. Her intuition told her that something was not quite right here. And unsettling thoughts wormed their way into her subconscious mind.

Who made those sounds and whispers? Her friends? Survivors? or killers? That she did not know. She told herself that it was just her overthinking things as usual. And if something was wrong here, or her friends had been under attack, it was nearly impossible that they had not made a single sound.

She mentally scolded herself because she was well aware that this was something she had caused. She had always known that every time she said something, she only started something. That was a reason why she had considered saying nothing- nothing at all about the matter in hand before.

But right now, that was not what mattered. Vess was to ensure that the others in whose company Vess had come here were well and fine. 

And just as she stuffed the last blanket in her backpack and was halfway out of the tent. She felt a hand forcefully pull her out of the tent and force her down to the ground. Her breath got caught in her throat, and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Cold sweat trickled down her brow. Her hands began to quiver incessantly. For sure, this was not a figment of her imagination! She pinched herself hard. That reassured her of her cognizance. A barrage of thoughts overwhelmed her mind.

Then the last thing she remembered was being knocked out after a few incoherent whispers about 'THE MARK'.

[curiousconch]

Escape

Chapter 8 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Heather attempts to escape her captors. But will she succeed?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.5k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / violence, language

Author's Notes: This chapter took me too long to complete, since I hit a creative block. Grateful for @eleanorbloom for giving me tips to overcome it (thank you! 🥰🥰🥰)

Thank you so much for taking time to read/comment/reblog this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Heather held her tears at bay. Frankly, all she wanted was to let herself go.

But she can't. She didn't want to give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her break. When Declan Nash removed her blindfold, he thought it was enough to pulverize her will. Heather was determined to prove him wrong.

"I'll pick up the second dose. Start on getting rid of the pretty doctor first," she heard Nash say to the other man, right before he left.

She watched closely as another man approached her, his features slowly revealed by the dim light surrounding them. The hair at the back of her neck stood up when she recognized the face of her kidnapper.

Jordan Peter Anderson, the Edenbrook janitor. Pete, as he was mainly known.

Suddenly, it all made sense. That's how he had access to her things, how he can easily know her home address, her schedule, all details of her life without suspicion. He was just another face in the sea of people that came in and out of the hospital. A fairly common and trusted face, at that.

She just wondered how Declan was connected to him. She wanted so much to find out. But now, she had to focus on preventing herself from whimpering as Pete violently dragged her to sit on a chair. He tugged her wrists free before slamming them on a metal table. She instantly winced with the impact.

That was when she saw the back of her hand, where an IV cannula was attached to an exposed vein.

What the hell was he planning?

She found the answer sooner than she thought.

She followed his movement with her eyes as he picked up a syringe from a nearby table. It was filled with a clear liquid.

"I take it you're familiar with potassium chloride, Dr. Song?" The janitor sneered as she gazed in terror at what he was holding.

She knew. Potassium chloride overdose can cause cardiac arrest when administered via IV, and in overdose, was fatal. Her mind raced with comprehension.

He's out to kill. He's not going to spare me. This isn't just a game. Her mouth went dry, refusing to accept the possibility that she may not live another day.

Her hazel eyes can only stare at the man who was about to murder her. For a moment, she was filled with helplessness, the tiny semblance of hope in her quickly dwindling out.

No! I'll overcome this. This won't be the end of me. She willed herself to think. Heather Song is one hell of a woman and she won't come down without a fight.

When he was just a single step away from her, inspiration struck.

As he reached for her, she leaned her head back, waiting for the perfect timing. Once he was near enough, she braced for impact and gave him a headbutt. He fell down to the ground, howling in pain. Heather took the opportunity to flee, liberating herself from the chair.

As she tried to take off, a struggle ensued. She was instantly dragged backwards, the force nearly knocking her out. She felt a sharp prick on her neck before she turned and kicked the man on the groin.

He wailed. Heather didn't wait for him to recover and ran for her life, fear and desperation egging her on. Her bare feet heavily hit upon the concrete floor, as she removed the gag from her mouth.

"HELP! Someone, please help me!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, sprinting. Her bruised arms pushed back against the plastic tarps and navigated the narrow corridor blindly.

Soon, she saw an open threshold nearby. She decided to aim for it. When she was almost there, someone grabbed her from behind, making her scream. She strained to break free from the hold, only to be pulled back again.

"Heather," a voice urged. "Heather, it's me!"

She recognized the speaker, making her stop in her tracks. She turned around and looked back into the dark brown eyes of the man in front of her.

Rafael.

At the sight of him, an overwhelming sense of relief flooded her being. She leaned onto him, feeling his strong presence encapsulate her in a tight embrace.

As the panicked adrenaline to fight for her life slowly dissipated, a rush of tears stained Heather's cheeks like an overflowing dam. So she clung to him, convincing herself that she wasn't imagining him and that her whole ordeal has ended.

"It's okay, love. I'm here, you're safe." Raf whispered, his lips kissing the crown of her head.

But she wasn't.

She felt her knees begin to buckle, her whole body shook. There was a sharp pain in her chest, while her vision of Rafael slowly blurred.

The last thing she could remember was the gentleness of his touch, before her world whirled and faded into darkness.

***

He can only watch the helicopter that airlifted Heather to Edenbrook Hospital. When she was found, a syringe was stuck on her neck, and the paramedics suspected a type of poisoning. Her sudden collapse and the  unknown nature of what caused made the situation urgent, so the response team decided it was best course to fly. 

Even though he yearned to accompany her as she fought for her life, he was hastily denied that right. Rafael seized that away from him, taking it upon himself to stay with her instead.

He wanted to be the first person she sees when she wakes up, to hold her hand, to assure her that she will never have to face horrors like this anymore. But fate wasn't on his side this time. It never was. 

So Bryce chose action. He first called in ahead to give Dr. Ramsey the few details they have on hand. He couldn't bring himself to follow her to the hospital. His mind dictated that he wasn't useful there. Instead, he made himself useful somewhere else. 

And there he was, standing in the middle of the crime scene as he hang up his phone. 

Here is where I can help Heather, he thought. I have to find what was in that syringe. It might be her only hope. 

His tired eyes scanned the floor, trying to pick up any detail that may be valuable. He walked around looking down, flashlight in hand, determined to find just about any kind of clue. 

He winced when he saw blood. Heather's. His chest tightened, anger rising within him. That fucking sicko, I swear I'm gonna give him hell. 

Bryce continued prodding around until he heard a soft jingling noise, making him stop. It felt like he just kicked something. He knelt down and found a torn plastic case and a clear glass bottle. He put on his rubber gloves and picked it up, reading the label. Realizing what it was, he quickly dialed Sienna's number and waited for her to pick up. 

"Bryce?" he heard a familiar voice on the line, but it wasn't Dr. Trinh. 

"Jackie?" he felt an immediate pang of worry, hearing the frantic exchange of voices in the background. But he quickly shook the feeling away. He had to focus.

"I found something that might help Heather. There's a bottle of potassium chloride where she was taken, it's empty. I think that's what the suspect injected Heather with."

"Gimme a second," Jackie said. Bryce waited as he listened to Dr. Varma ask for Heather's blood workup from a nurse. "Her potassium levels are elevated, and she's in cardiac arrest. This makes sense, Lahela." 

"She's in cardiac arrest?" A lump in his throat formed, his grip almost slipping from the bottle he was holding. 

"Yes. But we're trying to get her out of it. Your intel's gonna help us figure the rest out," Jackie said, and he sensed her hesitation before he heard her next words. "She'll pull through. So quit yapping and get your ass over here."

The line went dead. 

It took him five minutes to scale down the building, get into his car and hit the road.

***

The environment in the ER was charged by the frantic beeping of the machine, signalling Heather's ongoing cardiac arrest. 

"We've got suspected hyperkalemia," Jackie sprinted to the doctors surrounding Heather's limp body as she got off the phone. 

"Of course," Dr. Ramsey nodded, as he referred to the latest lab results. "A potassium chloride overdose would've caused her coronary infarction. It may have also caused her temporal paralysis, making her lose consciousness. Do we have her weight?" 

"Yes, Dr. Ramsey," Sienna dictated Heather's latest weight to the senior attending, allowing for him to compute for the correct dosage for the prescription. 

"Calcium bicarbonate for the IV, Kaley please," the male doctor handed a piece of paper where he scribbled the dosage needed. 

"Don't we need to do haemodialysis?" Jackie stood beside him, as she prepared a tourniquet and tried to find a vein where the saline solution can be injected. 

"No, we aren't too late, the potassium haven't bound to the cells yet. Watch out for other symptoms though," Like a well-oiled machine, Heather's mentor gave instructions rapidly, taking the lead role in her treatment. 

The nurse went back with the prescription and Jackie setup the insertion. As the liquid began to flow, they waited and watched the heart rate monitor overhead. 

It took a few seconds before the beeping slowed down into a steady rhythm. There was a collective sigh of relief.

Heather Song just narrowly escaped death. 

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics