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delulu-is-the-soluluh · 2 months

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Scars of Flames and Wind | Chap 1

Previous Chap: Prologue

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A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

(Temporary) Summary: Aelin and Y/N shared a deep bond since childhood, growing up together in the royal courts of Terrasen as their innocent crushes hinted at a future romance. However, the invasion of Adarlan shattered their world. Aelin was forced to become Celaena, while Y/N stayed behind, joining the rebellion and becoming their most lethal spy, never ceasing to look for the princess. That is until she accidentally meets with a famous assassin who’s eyes she knows for so long.

Author's note: This chapter is set one month before the events of AB.

Warnings: death, bar fight, daggers, mediocre writing.

Chapter 1 | Echos of the past

y/n pov:

After that fateful night, King Orlon and his court were slaughtered. Princess Aelin was presumed dead a few days later, as survival from her fall into the Florine River seemed implausible. The once vibrant magic of the land vanished entirely as Adarlan declared Terrasen under their dominion and the land was marred by despair; hundreds went missing, and thousands perished. Countless faes lost their minds without their magic, poverty gripped the families who had relied on their abilities for sustenance and hundreds were now trapped in their animal forms, gradually forgetting their true selves.

For eight long years, Aedion had to rise through the ranks of Adarlan’s army, gaining their trust, securing a position of power, orchestrating battles, and inflating body counts. All this to aid the rebels hiding in the Staghorn mountains. I trained as a soldier, after relentless begging for Aedion and Darrow. Soon, I proved myself as a military strategist and a well trusted spy, with “lethal combat skills despite being human” to Darrow’s headache and “a specialty on being annoying” according to Aedion.

All this to find her.

We often bluffed about her being alive to give hope to the rebels. And even if it was a dangerous gamble, it helped to ignite the spark of resistance. But I have never believed otherwise. Some part of me was certain that she was alive, that she’s surviving in her own way. Darrow often called me delusional and I often blamed him for his lack of will on tracking her. And even when Aedion tried to dissuade me, I couldn’t stop searching for clues. Looking for a familiar face in every woman I know. She could have changed her entire appearance, but you can’t hide those eyes. Those turquoise eyes with golden hues..

And working as a spy for them had me traveling around the continent: gathering information about the court, to recruit more allies, leaving favors to use in the future, tracking some groups to see if they’re doing any improvement, and to...seize threats, whenever needed.

Sometimes I wonder if she would feel disgusted of me, of Aedion, after so much blood in our hands. Some of them were innocent who accidentally got involved.. Just thinking that she might be repulsed by this path I took, terrifies me.

I just never thought my path would lead me to the most hideous and filthy part of Rifthold.

The smell of waste and sewage burned my nose, making my eyes water. Not even the night or the salt air could mask that stench. Each step through the narrow alleys and dimly lit streets painted a picture of despair and disgust.

I pulled my hood lower, trying to blend into the shadows as I navigated through the labyrinth of decay. The muffled clamor of a filthy bar nearby reminded me of my goal. The distant shouts, the clinking of bottles, the occasional scurrying of rats through the streets... Fuck this was disgusting, with all the blood money this kingdom has, I expect them to afford a little bit of soap or something.

Finally, I reached the abandoned house, the wood rotting and the stones cracked as I entered. Hunter and Louis were already there, their faces tense in the dim light. Hunter was pacing while Louis leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“So,” I greeted, pulling down my hood. “Any news?”

Hunter stopped pacing and looked at me, relief flickering across his face when he saw me. “Someone is trying to ditch us.”

I winded my eyes slightly in alert waiting for to continue but it was Louis, who pushes off the wall and nodded “One from the Finn’s group got caught by the guards talking to Lady Balanchine and was.. bribed by to be their informant on us”

“Bribed as beaten up, huh?” He nodded as I furrowed my brows “And Archer thinks the little fella knows about our contact on Eyllwe and wants her gone?

Louis went quiet as Hunter sighed “We just want to make sure nothing goes wrong. Having a royalty in the castle will be more efficient than a healer”

He was right. Sorscha has been doing a great job, but if we get a princess in there..

I bit my cheek in annoyance “And deciding, alone, to kill off the problem, will solve everything? Without giving a flying damn about how this will affect the other’s trust in the rebellion?”

Louis walked to me, handing me a dagger “Just make it look like a bar fight.” He shrugged his shoulders “Nicky was always volatile anyway.”

I looked at him in disbelief. What kind of people Archer has been recruiting? How can he be so nonchalant with this?

“It’s a life, Louis. A person. And, yes, she fucked up and I agree on this” I said pointing to the dagger with my head “but pull this shit and again I’ll show how volatile I can be.” I said, grabbing the bladed weapon and adding into my sheath. “Anything else?”

“It’s said Celaena Sardothien is around” Louis said walking past me

“Ah, the Adarlans Assassin” I smirked as I fixed hair into my hood. “She’s quite famous isn’t she? Love her style. Gotta be lucky to stumble on her, though.”

“I’m serious YN. She didn't get this title by nothing. She’s deadly, and if you get hurt, Aedion will kill me” Hunter said in annoyance.

I rolled my eyes, a smirk tugging at my lips. “I’m perfectly capable of surviving,” I said, striding to the table and grabbing a bag of coins. “Sardothien or not.”

Hunter sighed, his eyes serious as they met mine. “Y/N, this isn’t just about your survival. If Nicky says anything about this princess being involved, it could jeopardize everything we’ve worked for. We need solid intel, and we need it without drawing attention.”

I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. “I get it, Hunter. But we’ve handled tough situations before. We’ll get through this too.”

Louis crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “Just remember, if you encounter Sardothien, avoid her. Gather information and get out. She’s lethal, and we don’t need unnecessary risks.”

Adjusting my leather vambraces, I tightened the straps of my boots and pulled my hood lower over my face. My garments were dark and form-fitting, designed for stealth and quick movement. “Yeah, Got it. In and out, no heroics,” I said, my tone light but my resolve firm.

Hunter placed a hand on my shoulder, a rare gesture of camaraderie. “Be safe, Okay? I like breathing but I would be sad to lose a colleague” he smiled softly

I returned the smile and gave him a nod, “I’ll be back before you know it,” I promised, slipping out of the building.

The bar was as dirty as I had anticipated. The stench of stale beer and unwashed bodies permeated the air, and the floor was sticky with fluids that I really don’t want to know what they were. My eyes scanned the room, seeking out for Nicky: Beaten up women, brunette, medium height, and a scarface. Easy target.

I located her by the final table on my right, defeatedly drinking her beer. Poor thing, already knows what to wait for. I bit my lip, thinking how I could rile up this place towards her. Maybe stealing drinks on her behalf or bluffing to the bartender that she caused me a huge default and would do the same here.. it wouldn’t be suspicious if she ended up stabbed.

I was about to put my plan into action when my attention was drawn to a commotion at a table with five drunken men and women,who were dressed entirely in black, masked and hooded, standing out among them. They were accusing her of cheating at their card game,their voices grew louder as I stood from afar.

Perhaps I won’t be the one to rage up the bar, then.

"You think you can just waltz in here and cheat us?" a burly man with a scruffy beard shouted, his face flushed with alcohol and rage. "We don't take kindly to thieves!"

The woman, her masked face revealing nothing but the level of her eyes, remained calm and collected. She leaned back in her chair in feline grace, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn’t cheat. You’re just upset because I’m winning," she replied coolly, her voice carrying an overly sweet edge.

A second man, tall and lanky with a sneer plastered on his face, slammed his fist on the table. "Don’t lie to us! We saw you slip that card from your sleeve!"

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she stood up slowly, her movements controlled and deliberate. "I don’t need to cheat to beat you," she said, her voice dripping with contempt as she leaned onto the table. "But if you want to make a scene, be my guest."

The tension at the table was palpable, drawing the attention of the entire bar. I leaned back against the counter, smirking in awe, my plan momentarily forgotten, as I watched as the situation escalated. Damn, she was looking for ‘fun’ tonight.

"Enough of this!" the burly man growled, reaching out to grab her arm. But she was faster. With a swift movement, she twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him face-first into the table. The impact sent cards and drinks flying, and the bar erupted into chaos. The tall man lunged at her, but she sidestepped gracefully, delivering a sharp kick to his midsection that sent him crashing into a nearby patron.

Another one, bald with full beard, likely a regular at the bar, staggered towards her with a determined yet unsteady gait. The idiot raised his fists, clearly intent on joining the fray. But the woman barely seemed to notice him. With a flicker of disdain, she sidestepped his wild, clumsy swings, delivering a swift, expertly placed jab to his ribs. He crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath, utterly outmatched. It only added to the mesmerizing display of her skill and power, deepening my fascination with her.

There was a primal elegance, a wild, untamed energy on her that seemed to ignite something deep within me. It was quite hypnotic as if she was dancing on the edge of a knife. Admiration mingled with a hint of something darker, that thrilled me as much as it intrigued me.

The masked woman smirked beneath her hood. "Come on, guys, this is too easy. What does it take for someone to have fun here," she taunted, her confidence unwavering, her blue eyes gleaming with savagery and rage. Blue eyes that seemed..

A bottle was thrown and smashed above my head, quickly bringing me out of trance.

The fight erupted into a full-blown brawl, as I shook my head to ground myself and seized the opportunity to move through the chaos undetected. I crossed the bar avoiding the people who were now fighting among themselves, ducking and dodging bodies and fists, eyes locked on Nicky, who was retreating towards the corner of the bar. Nicky's eyes were fixed on the growing fight, her body tense and ready to slip away unnoticed.

I moved swiftly, coming up behind her and, with a precise motion, plunged my dagger between her fifth rib. “Sorry about this,” I murmured in her ear, my voice laced with sarcasm and a hint of pity, as I twisted the dagger and pushed even more inside her. “But it’s necessary. We can’t afford any risks.” Nicky’s eyes widened in shock, tears streaming down her face as she looked at me, her mouth forming a silent scream.

I felt my eyes soften a little. No matter how many I kill, this never gets easier. I’ll always remember them. Agreeing or not, won’t change the amount of blood I have in my hands.

I took the dagger out of her and turned away without looking back. The soft tremor under my boots was the confirmation that she collapsed. The fight was still raging, with the bar’s patrons, already on edge from too much drink, joined in. bottles flew, chairs were overturned, and the air was filled with the sounds of shouts and breaking glass as walked towards the secondary door

The bartender still yelled for order,voice drowned out by the cacophony, when someone slammed into me from the side. Instinctively, I shifted my weight, performing a swift maneuver to regain my balance and avoid falling. As I pivoted, I found myself face-to-face with the person who had collided with me.

The masked woman. And her eyes were turquoise and gold.

Even with smeared black kohl, it was unmistakable.

The world seemed to stop as her eyes widened, as if she recognized me.

Before I could react, she bolted for the door. I sprang to my feet, weaving through the crowd in pursuit. The night air hit me as I burst outside, the woman already disappearing into the shadows. But I won’t let her go, not again. I ran after her, with my heart pounding with the need for answers.

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ladyevol · 3 months

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And here it is! My first fic for my Hotguy Must Die au. I'm posting some of it here, but for those who want to read everything, you can find the fic in AO3. Going forward, I plan on writing one shot fics for this AU exploring the characters and the world building in general since this is my version of what Hotguy might look like. Let me know who you'd like to see explored in future installments. You can check out the rest here

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Wolfbane

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Ships: Scar X Grian (very minor in this one, you can definitely see them as platonic), Pearl X Original Character

Tags: Character death, minor character death, Angst, werewolves, Abusive relationships (not between any of the main characters)

The first thing that the man felt after what appeared to be infinite void was warmth. It touched his skin faintly at first, however, the more stationary he remained, the more determined it became to bring him back to the world of the living. Then, he felt the dirt beneath him, reminding him that he was no longer falling in nothingness for all of eternity. Next, there was the sound of birds in the distance, the wind in his ears and his chest and finally the feeling of something soft and familiar pressing against his cheek. The man finally opened his eyes.

There was a time when he would have been much more desperate to wake up, to escape nothing and return to the world of the living, often accompanied by gasps, quick movement and eyes looking to the sides. Now though, all he felt as he came back was tired. The darkness felt almost welcoming, as if his moments inside it were the only time he could truly rest. Of course, those thoughts were nothing but wishful thinking. Even if he did lay there forever, death would eventually find him again and it was never kind.

This time death came in the form of his neighbor, as it often did. What it wasn't normally, however, was Pearl. She, despite being one of the most capable people he knew, was also one of his neighbors who had given him the least of a bad time. Pearl Moon was once a hunter, one of the guards who were tasked with protecting the city from the monsters and dangers that spawned with the night by tracking them down and destroying, however, an unfortunate encounter with a werewolf left to her forever tarnished, even if she was the winner by the end. The woman, now contaminated with lycanthrope, was ‘asked’ to retire by her supervisors, leading her to eventually moving into the complex and taking a job as a mailwoman, the same role he met her as and that she continued to enact in the many years they had been friends, so the idea that Pearl would just forget to take her medicine that kept her hunger under control was difficult to believe. Yet, it was her claws that had torn through his torso the previous night, her teeth that gnashed his bones and her mutated fingers that pulled his heart from his chest in his final moments of consciousness. He really didn't want to think what she had done with the rest of his body after his death.

Scar rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times to see a familiar gray and white cat looking down at him. Her sight always managed to make his situation feel at least a little bit better. “Hello there.” He said softly and reached to scratch the back of her ear and the cat purred in return, tail curling to let her glee be known. “Always on time, aren't you, Jellie?”

Six in the morning, that was when Scar awoke after every death and around the same place, the hole of Boatem, located in the ruins of an old village in the woods not too far from the city that had burned down twenty something years prior and left the area as a graveyard for its previous residences. The fire had consumed all plant life and since nothing had managed to grow there. Even people had reported to feel uneasy and even sick from being there for too long, so most tried to avoid it. Scar didn't have a choice. Death would always find him and he would always wake up the next day right there. He had grown as certain of it as he was that the sun would rise again the following morning.

“At least it isn't raining this time, right?” He spoke to Jellie who replied with a meow before he looked at the clothes and wheelchair next to the cat. “I'm hoping that you brought some better clothes for me this time, Jellie.” She meowed as he slipped it on, “yeah, yeah, I know, I know, making me wheel around in False's dress was funny and I did slay with it,” his voice became more high pitched and he laughed. “But she wasn't too happy that I had her dress. You'll make people think I'm a creep or something who goes around stealing the clothes of his friends. I would like to be able to at least keep my friendships, please.” He finished with the oversized gray hoodie he recognized as his roommate's, Cub, back from when he was in college and he was pretty sure the black sweatpants were his as well. He didn't know why Jellie wouldn't just bring him his own clothes, but he could at least explain why he was wearing his roommates clothes pretty easily. All of his other clothes were washing and Cub didn't actually care, so that was that.

The brunette man sat on his chair, buckled his belt and began rolling away on the dirt with the cat laying on his lap.

It took Scar thirty minutes to return to the city, and from there, another hour and a half to get inside his complex. The city was buzzing with life as always, none the wiser that their main hero and vigilante, Hotguy, had met yet another gruesome end the previous night. There was a time when it drove him mad that no one could remember his demise. All of his pain and suffering, all his blood spilled and tears and broken bones and he couldn't get an ounce of comfort or relief anything, any sort of response other than curiosity as to why Scar had disappeared all of a sudden or whatever their minds told them that had happened. Now though he was almost glad that was the case. It was best if he just suffered alone. He was used to it anyway. Even physical evidence of his deaths seemed to get mysteriously corrupted. Photos, videos, nothing worked. It was clear to him that whatever kept bringing him back didn't want to be seen. It was almost a shame that Hotguy wholeheartedly disagreed with the idea.

His smile was everywhere, from posters to billboards to shirts worn by the youth. They all knew hotguy, the hero who would die for the safety if he had to and he would. Over and over again, regardless if he wanted to or not, so, might as well make the best out of it. Death would always come after him, but maybe he could use that as an opportunity to prevent it from coming for someone else. Seeing the tears of joy of a mother being reunited with her son after all hope was lost or the joy of a child holding their kitty thought to be lost almost made it all worth it. It was at least enough to make him keep going.

Scar pushed the door of the building open and was immediately met with the smell of mold, dust and different types of food being prepared in the nearby apartments above him. His place wasn't anything fancy, in fact, quite the opposite. Some might think the building to be old and in extreme need of renovations, but to Scar it only gave it personality and made it one of the few affordable places in the city for a lesser known architect still hoping to make a name for himself with a working elevator. Scar pushed the button and waited for the doors to open before rolling inside. After selecting his floor, he waited for the door to shut, only for it to be interrupted by an arm being shoved between the doors just before they met. “WAIT!”

“Huh?” Scar blinked as the metal retreated to reveal a shorter man with pale skin and dirty blonde hair. The glasses around his black eyes made it seem considerably smaller than they actually were, like dots on a canvas and the scarf around his neck hid away his mouth and part of his nose. The rest of his body was covered by a similarly colored sweater and gray leggings. Grian strolled inside without another world and stood next to Scar after making sure that the man had indeed clicked the right button to their floor. “Oh, hey G. How are ya?”

As soon as the doors were shut, Grian replied by flicking Scar's forehead who immediately rubbed the area, less so due to the pain and more so from instinct. “What was that for?!”

“What the hell was the bright idea, huh?! Leaving me all alone with a WEREWOLF?! Scar, she could have killed me!”

He knew. She nearly did. They had underestimated Pearl's intelligence while fully transformed. A hunter was a hunter, even as a wolf like monster unable to speak or recognize those around her. She tricked them into thinking that they had the upper hand, only to use the opening to attack the one of the two of them she thought to be weaker, smaller. Scar refused to let any harm come to his partner, even if that meant jumping in front of her jaws. The rest he would rather forget. “Right, right, sorry, I just really needed to use the bathroom all of a sudden, haha.” Scar forced a laugh and rubbed the back of his head.

Grian took a deep breath. “You can't trick me, Scar. I know you just got scared and ran away. You always do this! Honestly, what would people think if they learned that their greatest hero, the only one in the city that isn't a dog for the government, is a fraud?! A coward that runs away when things get too rough! You are meant to be a symbol of hope, Scar!” Grian grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks while staring into his green eyes. “Act like it!”

Scar gently moved his hands to grab Grian's wrists gently and pull them away. The younger man let him. “Sorry, G. Really, I just- can't help it.” He sighed, “but hey, at least Hotguy can always count on his aMAYzing sidekick to clean up the mess, huh?”

Grian exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, “right. The thing is, Cuteguy isn't nearly as popular as Hotguy now, is he? People don't like Watchers, Scar. You know what they do like? Underdog's story, like a regular guy that somehow manages to defeat all the monsters the hunters were supposed to keep us safe from and the weirdos that keep appearing every day.”

“Well, I'm not a complete regular Joe, G. You know that.”

“Right, you have Vex blood in you from,” he began counting on his fingers, “four generations ago?”

“Three, actually.”

“Wow, amazing. You can use your magic to aim really well and walk for a limited amount of time.”

“Ouch.”

“C'mon, Scar. You know what I mean! You're the image of everything everyone in this city wants to be. You're their hero. You need to start acting like it.”

Scar looked down. Grian was right. He needed to do better. Be better. Everyone was counting on him. It was just so difficult to do it most days, when he knew that eventually the pain would come again, he would die in a horrific way and no one would even remember. He felt so isolated most of the time, distant like there was a wall separating him and the rest of the world. He couldn't even remember a time when it wasn't there. “Sorry Grian.” He said finally, “you're right. I just got scared.” Scar was always. So. Scared.

Grian looked at him for a moment before his shoulders sagged and his gaze softened. “It's fine. Whatever. It's not like I got hurt in the end. Apparently, just after you left, Pearl found this sack of meat that she ate for long enough for me to bring her down and lock her.”

Ah. So that was what he saw his body as this time. A literal sack of meat. “Y-yeah, pretty lucky. Did she get hurt? Did the police?”

“No, I left with her before the guards arrived. And the hunters. Like I said, after eating she was considerably more amiable. Werewolves are not brainless. They are just hungry.

The more Grian spoke, the sicker Scar felt. “Ok, and did you manage to talk to her after she transformed back? Is her boyfriend ok?”

“Yeah. Apparently the worst thing that happened was her standing him up since they were supposed to have a date. I don't think she told him what happened. I'm not even sure he knows what she is.” Grian gently scratched Jellie's ear. She purred.

“So there were no casualties.”

“No. Only a butcher shop that got invaded and a lot of meat that was stolen. Compared to our other jobs, it was pretty clean actually.” It certainly didn't feel clean. The door opened and Grian walked out, holding the door for Scar long enough for him to roll out. “Listen, you should at least talk to her sometime, ok? Comforting people is your expertise, not mine. It's part of the reason why people love you.”

“Silver tongue Scar, that's what they call me.” The brunette smiled slightly, “should I go as, you know.” He tilted his head to his door slightly.

“That's for you to decide. But whatever you do, do it quickly. Also, you really gotta steal people's pants, man. They just don't look good on you.” Scar looked down at his pants that were seemingly slipping away before pulling away. “Thank-” the door shut behind Grian, leaving Scar all alone in the hallway.

The exhaled deeply before turning around to go to his apartment, located in front of Grian's only to then stop to look at the apartment next to his. It was Pearl's apartment. Normally, she would be already heading to work around that time, would she have skipped that day after what happened? Or would she throw herself in even harder to try and think about anything else? After a moment considering it, he realized the second option sounded a lot more like Pearl. Maybe Hotguy would pay her a visit after solving a few more issues.

#mcyt #gtws #grian #desert duo #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hotguymustdieau #scarian

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snippychicke · 1 year

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hello if its fine can i reaquest a fic for robin on mairishimata iruma kun x reader where robin was in his wicked phase and reader found him im wondering on how it will turn out it can be up to you

Heyyyyy Anon! I am so sorry this took me over six months to reply to. Hopefully this makes up for the wait.

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a continuation of this fic here

Gender-neutral reader, the end is kind of up for interpretation but does insinuate... happy fun times.

See my library of fics here!

If you had thought Robin was a ball of sunshine and energy before, he was twice as much now. It amused you to no end watching him conduct his classes in the courtyards, helping the students become more familiar with their familiars.

He was always so positive, so energetic. The light in his vivid green eyes always sparkled with happiness that you both loved, and to a point, envied him for.

So when you heard he was in his evil cycle, you were extremely surprised. Robin? Of all demons? What could have bothered him so much to do that?

"Best stay away," Dali had teased with a glint in his eye. "Those of the Babatos descent are very determined to get what they want."

Which… did nothing but invoke your curiosity to be honest. What did Robin want so badly that it would push him like this? Or was Dali just up to his tricks? After all, you had been dating/courting Robin for a while now and he hadn't seemed to want anything.

He had been an ultimate gentleman, or gentledemon, whatever. While he was always finding reasons to hug you and lavish you with soft kisses, he had never done anything further… which was actually causing you to feel conflicted.

So, against your better judgment, you went to search out your significant other, which ended up leading you to the wild forest adjacent to Babyls.

The forest was blessed with dappled sunlight, the sounds of the woods both reminding you of earth, as well as how different it was.

Just as you were thinking that maybe he wasn't among the trees, you felt something small fly by your face. You froze as the arrow impaled the tree next to you. You slowly turned, and could barely see Robin amongst the soft green foliage.

The smile on his face was slightly off; both playful and something else. Just like the expression in his eyes. "Are you gonna run, my little human?" He teased, his words barely heard over the rustling of the leaves. "You know how I love a good hunt."

There was a small voice in your head warning you that he was in an evil cycle. That you could be in quite a bit of trouble. This was not your happy-go-lucky Robin.

But… in a way it was. He was waiting for you despite everything. Yes, he had an arrow notched and aimed for you, but you could tell it was still the Robin you loved, looking for a spot of fun.

And, well, who were you to deny him?

You grinned up at him before spinning on your heel and taking off deeper into the woods, hearing him laugh behind you. Arrows were soon whizzing past, close enough you could feel their air currents, but never once actually brushing you. Your heart was pounding as you leapt over fallen logs and crashed through the underbrush, vaguely aware of Robin following you as his arrows came from different directions.

He may have been following you, but you realized he was guiding your path with his arrows, encouraging you to turn whenever he wanted with a few aimed shots. And that path led to a large oak-like tree that blocked your path, its roots too overgrown to simply climb around them.

Meaning you were trapped.

“Aw, too bad,” Robin cooed as he dropped from the canopy just as you turned to try a different path. His usual cheerful smile had been replaced with a rather wicked grin. “Looks like you lost.”

You bit your lip and you stepped backwards and he advanced, your heart still thrumming, though for a different reason. “So, what’s the mighty hunter going to do now that he caught his prize?” You asked as you were pressed against the rough bark of the tree.

“Hmm, that is a good question, my little human,” he purred, his voice taking on a darker quality that sent shivers straight to your core. He pinned you to the tree, his hands on either side of you, his sharpened nails digging into the bark. You closed your eyes and could barely hold back a whimper as he pressed his face against your neck. “I always wondered what a human actually tasted like…”

You had kissed before. Several times. But none of it prepared you for the kind of kisses he pressed to your neck, using his lips, teeth, and tongue in a way that soon had you gasping and whining in pleasure with a hint of pain.

Robin pressed even closer, his hands wandering across your chest and stomach, leaving gooseflesh in its wake, even with clothing between your skin and his. “Can I taste you?” he whispered in your ear as he boldly cupped your groin. “Please, my sweet?”

Devi, you wouldn’t have denied him in the first place, but especially when phrased like that.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #bars robin x reader #bars robin #robin bars #robin bars x reader

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werdlewrites · 7 months

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masterlist - ao3 - twitter @ djomamma

summary: warnings: Mentions of abuse, drug use. wc: 2,840

The sun was beginning to set by the time the pair arrived at the trailer park. Heather would cast a glance towards the girl in the driver's seat, anticipating a look of judgment but nothing ever comes. Autumn merely squints and presses herself forward for a better view through the night. The tall lights flickering and providing little to no help through the shadows. She seeks guidance from the passenger, who directs her along the path until they arrive at their destination. At the rear end of the Jeep, Heather pulls her bike from the trunk and wheels it up to the porch, where it lays without chains.

“Welcome to the Hunter abode,” she speaks in a drawl, keys jingling in her free hand as she fumbles with the lock. She mumbles in annoyance. Confessing the key always manages to get stuck, so she has to wiggle it around until there’s a seamless fit. There’s almost a relieved sigh as all falls open - welcoming the two girls into the cozy, dimly lit home. Wood paneling hides behind framed photos and patterned curtains, the light from the television flickering across every surface. It holds a familiar feeling; like a home. Old cigarette smoke pouring out from the fabric, the smell of fried food working hard to disguise it.

“Give me a second, okay? I’ve got t’get this t’my mom.” The other girl gestures down to the brown paper bag, grease darkening a few scattered spots at the bottom. In a matter of seconds, she’s gone. Moving into the small kitchen and down the empty hallway, calling out for her mother who replies in delight at her daughter's return. Their conversation is buried between the walls that separate them—incoherent words paired with a few sudden fits of laughter.

Jealousy stares back at Autumn through reflections in the glass. An ugly thing that mocks and stews in misery. It points a finger and reminds you of what you no longer have, and if it would ever be that way again. She finds herself loosely trailing after her friend, lazy steps carrying her towards the canary yellow fridge decorated in magnets and polaroids. Some hold people she cannot recognize.

Grandparents, unknown family members, or strangers as they linger in the background. Others are all too familiar. A group of boys with wild outfits and wide smiles, or the many versions of Heather as she grew into who she was today. Pictures of her and what she believes to be her mother out at the beach, bucket and shovels in hand. Pictures of Christmas morning and Halloween night, or something a little more recent as they stand in front of a moving truck.

That jealousy begins to simmer out into nothing. Its haunting face is now stoic without harmful words spewed. It drinks in the unknown world of Heather Hunter, finding similarity in ways no one should. Heather is almost breathless when she reappears, face red from smiling for too long, not once faltering as she finds the girl's focus locked on a particular picture. “I know what you’re thinking,” she begins, finally catching Autumn’s attention. “What went wrong?”

The girl snorts, shaking her head in disagreement. It’s nowhere near close - but the thought brings a feeling of guilt. Yet still, it falls off of her tongue. “Has it always been you and your mom?”

She’s hardly phased, blowing a raspberry at first as her body shifts. It had become clear Autumn wasn’t the first to ask. “Nah. Dad’s out there, somewhere. Doin’ what he does best. Being an absolute piece of shit.” Her arms are crossed, her side resting just against the chilled surface as she waits in anticipation for a response. But her friend is left speechless, lips parted as if wanting to speak but unsure of what to say. Heather opts to fill the emptiness. “Mom and I had t’leave him. It just wasn’t safe.”

It’s all so casual. She even spares the shrug of a shoulder as if she hadn’t spent years of her life in physical and mental anguish. As if he never bruised her skin or broke glass at her mother's feet. Jealousy had shifted into something sorrowful. Reaching out to console another wounded bird, though she hardly seems unable to fly. She stands tall with wings at the ready, taking flight off into the freedom she had fought hard for. No more bars to cage in something once delicate, now a force to be reckoned with.

Something in the distance steals away their attention, eyes shifting to the concealed window as heavy equipment moves past, gears squeaking and pipes rattling from within. Autumn chances a look as she leans across the sink, prying back the short curtain to watch as a two-toned van comes to a stop not far from them. A dark figure nearly stumbles out, his silhouette recognizable even now. “Is that Eddie?”

The other leans in just at the girl’s side, eyes narrowed to peel back the darkness. Soon, a smile is etched into place. “Sure is.”

“That’s convenient. Being neighbors with your best friend?”

She shrugs, not seeing the importance of her words. “S’how we met. Want t’go say hi?” Autumn can barely register the thought, let alone reply before she’s dragged back the way she came. Heather shouting out to her mom that she would be at “Munson’s.” Along the way, Heather is suddenly struck by an idea as a few lights come to life from within his home. She instructs Autumn to crouch and follow her lead, creeping along the path until they can hear his music bouncing off of the walls. The pair move along the siding, looking all too suspicious. She’s suddenly hyper-aware of neighbors watching as two shadows stalk around his home, phone at the ready to call for police.

“What are we-?” The question is silenced as a hand cups her mouth, a single finger held midair to keep her from speaking.

Slowly, their skin parts and she watches in continued silence as Heather slowly stands before a closed window, the glow from within illuminating a look of pure joy. Without warning, her palm slams against the glass, immediately forcing out a shriek of fear from the boy. “Bitch!” he calls out from within, angered steps carrying him towards the window. “Let us in!” Heather cries out, still wearing a smile of pride.

“Us?” The curtains are pulled back and the window latch is flicked, ring-clad fingers gripping at the edge as he leans out for a better view. “Who is-? Oh,” he pauses, barely taking in the sight of a familiar girl at Heather’s side. “Hey, Reid.”

Heather doesn’t waste another second. Hardly letting Autumn return the gesture as she boldly states, “Put your porn away and open the door. We’ve got a situation.”

A small smile of amusement is seen in the shadows, yet a look of confusion in his eyes as he wasn’t entirely trusting of her words. “Yeah? What kind of situation?”

The bright eyes of Heather look back to the girl, a smile to suggest secrets on her lips. Autumn does nothing but cross her arms in wait, unsure of what was happening. “We’re in desperate need of some fun.”

His fingers tap against the siding, biting at his lower lip to resist mimicking her joyous expression. But he stands back, arms held out in good faith. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Eddie soon hurries off once the window is shut, his frantic steps heard echoing as he races for the front door. Without a word, the two girls follow after, waiting another moment beneath the porch light. Though the time was short, it was enough to tug on Heather’s interest as she spared a curious look at Autumn in suspicion.

The door is swung back, fingers hastily combing through his mess of hair with rings threatening to tangle in the strands. Once settled, his arm is outstretched as an invite, a mocking bow in his posture. “Ladies,” he says dramatically, waiting until they both settle into the warmth of his home. It’s a stark contrast to the Hunter’s. All beige and brown. The only color coming from a collection of mugs and caps from around the world.

“Were you actually hiding your porn?”

He tuts in disapproval, his finger waving in the air. “A gentleman never tells.”

But the girl knows better, turning to face her friend to confess the boy’s secrets. “He’s got about five magazines under th-”

“That’s enough!” Eddie cries out, a large hand moving to clamp over her face. He tucks her back against his chest, now dragging her through the small home and down the hall. All protests are muffled as she stumbles along the way. “C’mon, Reid.” He calls out. “The fun is this way.”

She doesn’t follow in their steps upon his command. She instead lingers, arms tight around her torso as she considers what the fuck she’s agreed to. With a steady intake of breath, she braces for what's to come. She’s in it now, and it would be even more painful to make an excuse and bail. So, with one forced step after another, she inches closer to his bedroom, where Heather cries out in disgust. “Your hand tastes like ass!”

There’s a brief pause between the two. “You know what ass tastes like? Ow!” The punch to his arm is hard enough to hear. A muted ‘thud’ followed by clumsy feet as he works to catch himself. The room is exactly what she imagines, matching his personality, or at least what she knows of it. Posters of familiar bands hang up on the walls, his guitar resting up against the dresser that's cluttered with everyday items. It's careless and free, just like him.

He rubs at the unseen injury, a look of agony on his face until he finds Autumn standing in the doorway. The flip seems to switch, then. A bright smile to light up the room as he gestures out to the small space. “Make yourself at home.” Heather is already making herself comfortable, the desk chair pulled out with legs kicked up onto the mattress. She can see the hesitation in the other, giving a kind smile and nod towards the bed. Autumn does as suggested - first just at the edge out of uncertainty. With further encouragement in the silence, she pulls her legs up to cross over one another, finding easy comfort.

Eddie keeps his back to them, mumbling to himself as he digs through the top drawer. She can hear the crinkle of plastic, his deep eyes studying the contents with care before dropping it all back into the depths. Once he finds what he’s looking for, he turns with a victorious cry. “Ah-ha!” The bag contains numerous, rolled joints. Tape across the surface marked with a date and a specific plant name. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Fuck yes it is,” Heather replies with a grunt, her body now stretched out to rip the contents from his grip. She pauses once the seam is torn open, eyes cautiously looking back to Autumn who has remained mostly silent. “Unless you don’t want to? We can have sober fun.”

She’s not left in the silence for long. The girl before her is already painfully aware of the ache in her ribcage. A heart turning to heavy stone before it shatters to rubble, unable to withstand the pressure life adds upon it. “I think it’s exactly what I need.” It’s all either two need as they settle down, smoke soon filling the air with every exhale. It’s all casual talk in the beginning, waiting for the high to creep in like a growing shadow. Eddie mentions Dungeons and Dragons, looking at Autumn expectantly from his place on the carpeted floor, body stretched out and relaxed.

“Oh, no, no-” She says in panic, waving away the cloud that spills from her lips. “I’ve got t’much going on t’be playing that.”

The boy’s head falls back in a fit of laughter, his linked feet swaying from side to side in pure bliss. “You say it with such disgust.”

The joint is passed across the way to an eagerly awaiting Heather, a smile on her lips as she watches her two friends dive deeper into a genuine friendship. “It’s not disgust.” Autumn corrects. “Doesn’t that game last, what? Months?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, a subtle shrug seen as a shit-eating grin grows. “Or like, years.”

“Years?” she practically shouts, eyes wide with disbelief. Eddie’s form is slowly becoming hazy. The colors around him slowly melting into one another, creating an abstract painting before her eyes. “You’re nuts.”

“Best way t’be.” He retorts. The boy follows after the lit embers, a moth to a flame. His torso is sagged forward, heavy as he carries the universe's weight on his shoulders. The inhale of his chest moves in near slow motion, a stupid look on his face as he surrenders to nature's beauty. Giving himself over to whatever she desired.

The room becomes a chaotic storm. Wild conversations and shouts of delight rebound off of the covered walls. Snacks spilling out onto the floor as heated debates began, with pointed fingers yet joy in their eyes. Laughter was always just around the corner. Even through the swarm of madness, and violent winds ripping the world away - it’s hard to miss the way he gravitates to her. An anchor to keep him steady as the eye of a hurricane tears through his sanctuary. Deep brown eyes linger on her when she’s not paying attention, and hers do the same. It’s painfully obvious even through the fog that threatens to blind them all. Autumn wonders if they even know what’s happening between them.

“Fuck.” Heather suddenly blurts out as an idea strikes her like a bolt of lightning. “D’you bring your cards?”

Autumn shakes her head, an effortless laugh rumbling within her chest. “It’s at home.” It’s the first time in a while that the word doesn’t carry a feeling of sorrow and longing. A feeling of emptiness as she wanders through life without a clear path.

“I wanted you t’scare him again.” His eyes roll dramatically, thinking back to the time he spent cowering away from the girl once she depicted his past and future. All written throughout his flesh.

“That’s not hard.” Autumn retorts, watching the way his focus snaps back at her, clearly offended while the girl at his side wears a look of pride.

“I think she just called you a ‘pussy.’”

A narrowed look aims in her direction, a feigned look of anger and a scowl on his lips. “You’re honestly a terrible friend.”

“I could read palms again. Things can always change.” She offers with a small shrug, watching as their eyes light up with excitement. But they never get that far. Heather had scrambled her way across the small space between them to sit at her friend's side, asking for a demonstration on reading palms and what it all means. She holds her hand out to Autumn, and with a delicate touch, she points to every curve and loop of chains. Heather can barely focus, eyes squinting as she pulls her skin closer, not truly seeing what the other could but playing along out of fascination.

Then, the confidence kicks in. She’s slipped from the bed and down onto the floor, where Eddie waits in silence. Heather is muttering to herself, studying both of his hands before taking favor of his left palm. Given the encouragement she needs, she studies through the haze of her high. At first, the action renders the boy pink in the cheeks. Wide eyes flickering elsewhere to ignore the embarrassment of such an intimate moment put on display. She doesn’t notice, but Autumn does.

Heather’s thumbs push and pull at the skin, looking for something that sparks with light in her mind. Then, a trembling smile comes to the surface, holding secrets hostage as she begins to speak. “I see something.” The pair share a look of wonder, though the girl on the bed remains a little more disbelieving, but doesn’t stomp out his fire as he leans forward with intrigue.

“What? What is it?” She has to bite back her smile before forcing it all to fall flat, keeping on the mask for the sake of the game.

“I see,” Cheeks hollow and without warning, she spits into the dip of his palm. A look of pure horror dances across his expression while she continues to bask in her success. “A pool.”

The metalhead is nearly frozen in place, staring down at the dampened spot in his hand in shock. When she begins to snicker, it's then that he retaliates. The hand is ripped away from her grasp to then smooth its way across her face, nearly tackling the girl as she tries to fend him off. “It's your spit! Take it back, you nasty freak!”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things ff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x ofc #steve harrington x original female character #steve harrington angst #steve harrington slow burn #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own

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letsbenditlikebennett · 11 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

—

She will not die here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

–

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

#wr cass #wr kaden #wr regan #threads; with cass #threads; with kaden #threads; with regan #threads; with cass; emorguency room #threads; with kaden; emorguency room #threads; with regan; emorguency room #(never been a natural all i do is try try try) ;; writing #(the moonlight is blinding) ;; season 1 writing

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thefoulbeast · 1 year

Note

1, 4, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

1 Who would be first to to bite down and consume the flesh of the other, euphoric in the taste and the heft and the slide of the blood

They bite each other in tandem, like two parts of an ourouborous, tails twitching, teeth itching. They're pressed up close, chest to chest, biting the other's right shoulder. They have to bite down hard enough for the skin to give and bleed, and moan in unison as teeth penetrate. It tastes like all that is unholy and salvation at once. They've never felt like this before. The meat creaks between human incisor and animal fang. Soft, soft, hot and sweet. They lick at each other like cats at spilled milk. And then they kiss, and the flavour of them mixed between their tongues.

4 when the roles are blurred or reversed who would be first to die and how? would it be by bulletwound? the phallic blade? strangulation?

In the worst possible version of the story, they never meet. In another version, Scarab kills Maggot the first time they meet. In another, Maggot dies in the Zone - alone and scared.

The roles reverse when Maggot shoots Scarab back. It's bulletwound. That's the only way they could ever kill each other. Everything else is just sex - knives and hands strangling. The roles blur before righting themselves while Scarab recovers, gives himself up to clever hands that nurse him better and dig into the fresh scar all in one. Maggot, drunk on power, biting and scratching and owning.

It's a willing sacrifice, a wolf that's a lamb that wants to be eaten. And Maggot, despite his demure nature, is no rabbit, is no animal of prey. He's a hunter too - something patient that waits for you to walk into a clever trap. Something that makes you want to be eaten once you take a bite. A role reversal at the last moment. So - is it planned? Is it premediated? Is it real? Does it matter?

When this wolf meets this other predator, when he pulls him out into the open, makes him bare himself... that is when he dies and is reborn.

14 And if the dog bit back?

A puppy that bites you only when you put your hand between its teeth, and even then, only as play. Politely playful. But you can never quite let down your guard and believe it will grow up to be a kindhearted dog.

15 and if the dog bit back?

A wolf that prowls the woods, seeking something, anything, to fill its belly. A wolf that wants nothing more than to gore you and eat you.

16 and if the dog bit back?

They're both dogs, locked in a fight. Biting at each other, but more furiously at anyone else who might like to intervene. There is blood, and bone shines through the wet wounds. Still, they cannot stop. It's the most important thing they've ever done.

17 and if the dog bit back?

The bigger dog, the more vicious dog, holds the other dog's throat in its jaws. Bite down, he thinks. Bite down. But he cannot. The dog under it is still and content. It is not afraid. Bite me, he says, what a wonderful way to go.

18 and if the dog bit back?

The dog does, eventually. But it's a mutual decision. Strong hands guide the muzzle of the gun to where it will be a perfect mirror image. Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me. Make me yours as you are mine. Lick my wounds as I should have licked yours. Forgive me love, because I did not know then what I know now. That I want you. That I would give everything to you. That you hold me in your hands, body and soul and blood and bone.

19 and if the dog bit back?

Just a nip, a reminder of that epic fight that seemed to last forever. They are both victors and both losers. The score is settled. Just teeth on familiar territory. Your hand, your fingers in my mouth, tracing against my teeth.

Just a nip, not enough to even leave a mark. I'll bite your tongue, you'll bite my thigh. I'll drag my incisors over your throat and you'll pull me in closer against your body.

The puppy grew into a hound and it sleeps with the wolves out in the wild. The wolf is fed. The hound knows how to bite impolitely.

All is well. For now.

#ask #sleepy-space-nerd #magrab #oc #friends ocs #maggot #scarab

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vikkirosko · 2 years

Text

So. My requests are still closed. I am actively working on one very large request about Homestuck, but in order for the blog not to be sad and empty, I am parralely doing some more of my ideas. However, I received a request on YouTube. This surprised me. In another situation, I probably wouldn't have done it, but since I almost ran out of requests, I decided to write them. However, I remind you that I usually accept requests here.

🐺 Jacob Seed x half-angel fem!Reader headcanons Two years of separation ⛰️

Hope County was a place for you that reminded you of the past. Forests and mountains evoked more memories in you than some people that you know. You helped junior deputy survive in this crazy county. You were a hunter, hiding your face behind a mask, but it wasn't always like that. Two years ago, you didn't hide your face and you worked together with a man named Jacob. He was a former military man and a man with whom you had a complete understanding

You and Jacob met when you took a black wolf cub from his camp. He found out about it a couple of weeks later and went on a search, that's when he met you. You were able to find a common language and you agreed to return the cub, but you took an oath from Jacob that the same thing would not happen to this cub as with other wolves in the camp. He gave you this oath. You began to spend a lot of time together and often went hunting. It was after another hunt that you were forced to part

You remembered that day quite clearly. Because of the incident that happened, you were on the verge of life and death. Jacob didn't know about it. He didn't know that you weren't planning on coming back. In memory of this day, you have one completely white eye left. Others thought you were blind in one eye, but you weren't. It was a sign that you were blessed. It was this blessing that saved your life back then. You thought about leaving Hope County, but you stayed to help junior deputy

When you found out that your comrade-in-arms was forcibly held captive, you went to rescue him. However, your plan failed. When you opened the cage, the cultists attacked you. You didn't have time to react and would have been captured if not for the black wolf. You recognized this wolf. You remembered her as a puppy. She rushed to your defense, stunning Jacob's hunters with this. Only thanks to this you managed to escape. At first Jacob was surprised by what happened, but he quickly understood why the wolf rushed to protect you

You were thinking about Jacob and the time you spent together when you wandered in the woods, but your thoughts did not last long. You were knocked down by a black wolf so familiar to you, who, like an affectionate dog, hurried to lick your face. It made you laugh and you took off the mask. You understood that since the wolf was in the forest, so did Jacob. You intended to finally talk to him and tell him about the feelings that have tormented you for the last two years. You had no idea that you weren't the only one who was going to talk about feelings that day

#Far Cry #Far Cry 5 #Far Cry 5 x Reader #Far Cry 5 headcanons #Jacob Seed #Jacob Seed x Reader

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asirensrage · 2 years

Note

Song Prompt for Distraction:

Um, okay. This has no named characters (but if it did, it'd be a complete au...maybe. depending on them) so imagine who you want.

Warnings: uh, talk of arranged marriages and kidnapping. Sort of.

Stay out of the woods.

A warning often repeated, told to children as they grow. “There are beings in the wood,” her grandmother said. “Creatures that would steal you away.”

“There are wolves in the woods,” the hunter down the street would repeat, a mantra only he would claim. “They watch us.” His eyes bore into anyone who will listen. “Stay out of the woods.”

She has never felt anything sinister in them. They call to her, a whisper of potential and exploration and the threat and excitement of breaking their warnings.

What scared her more was the way her parents would whisper, conversations heavy with promises that they held with men she only knew in passing. Her grandmother would kiss the crown of her head, assuring her that the impending arrangement would do her well. Bind her to this place they called home.

If she is to be bound, she would end her freedom on her own terms. She would give in to the desire that has haunted her throughout her life. A final moment that would be solely hers.

She leaves in the night. It is not difficult to escape her home, to walk a familiar path in the night that leads to the forbidden. The moon illuminates the trees, a low mist settling in above the ground. It does not look safe. The forest past the edge of trees is nearly pitch black at this distance, streams of moonlight slipping past the canopy to shine a potential path.

There is a threat of being lost. She knows that if she stumbles, if she hesitates or stumbles, or injures herself in any way, there is no rescue. The woods are forbidden, save for the trodden road that leads past it. She will not go far.

Her heart pounds in her chest, fear and joy mingling together as she reaches the boundary. No one will know but she does not need them too. She has no plans to return with her tale of walking in the woods at night. She has no real fear of the place, but if she can manage this unknown, then her future will not seem so…shackled.

Stay out of the woods.

She enters.

She walks carefully, parting the mist and stepping over moss-covered stones and fallen trees. She can hear animals skittering in the dark, running from the surprise of her presence. She pauses, listening to the silence that is only broken by the creatures that live in this place. How could it be forbidden? Stories told to children, twisted by fear and held as truth by adults. It is simply a forest, a home to the animals that others hunted.

It is not as satisfying as she had hoped. The call of the woods has faded and she finds herself a little mournful of it. Her exploration did not reveal any secrets, but simply a reminder of the people she is surrounded with. The ones who barter their children while keeping them fearful of exploration.

She carefully turns, heading back the way she came, but the forest is dark and the mist is fading. She is not certain it is the right way. There is no set path for her to follow. She realizes now that while the dark has kept her presence hidden and protected her from the retribution of her people, it does her no favours in her return.

“Leaving already?”

Her heart leaps into her throat and she whirls, turning towards the voice. They are too far to recognize but there was not supposed to be anyone here! No one was supposed to know!

“You’ve been so brave so far, little one,” it says. “Won’t you come further?” Its head tilts, eyes strangely shining in the dark.

She shakes her head, long-forgotten instincts suddenly rearing up and telling her to flee. “I have to return. They’re expecting me.”

It moves towards her with an unnatural speed. “Do not lie to me,” it says softly, voice echoing around her. Her mouth falls open as she slowly starts to make out its features. It is beautiful, almost human but somehow unworldly, staring at her in fascination. It sniffs at the air but it nods. “You should not have come here,” it says.

She swallows tightly, trying to reign in the fear. “Are you going to kill me?”

It laughs. “Kill you? Why would I kill you? There are much better ways…” It moves again, and there is a sharp pressure at the back of her neck. Her vision sways, darkening before she finds herself falling, unable to stand. It catches her, lifting her with ease as it cradles her against it. She is faintly aware of the wind against her face as it moves, the warmth of its body where she is pressed against it.

As she fades, her grandmother’s voice whispers reminders in her memory. ‘There are beings in the woods. Creatures that would steal you away.’

Stay out of the woods.

Let’s do some prompts and drabbles

#unnamed characters #my original work #I guess #residentdormouse #prompts #maybe future things #how do i tag this?

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foulbearobservation · 2 years

Note

If you still want prompts

Camilith + werewolf

There is a wolf that stalks the forest.

They live on the outskirts of town, near the woods and Camila hears it crashing through the undergrowth sometimes. It doesn’t scare her, not like it scares the other children in the village.

Wolves are just like people, really. They only lash out if they’re scared or hungry.

And Camila knows a thing or two about being hungry.

“Careful child,” her mother warns, “hurry back. The wolf will be out again tonight.”

Camila nods, a little scared but she still has to go. Her traps aren’t going to empty themselves and there’s a feast waiting in the forest, but only if you know how to find it.

So Camila goes into the forest. It’s just around dinner, not yet dark but not quite light either, but she doesn’t have to go very far to check her traps along the riverbank. She pulls down two rabbits from her traps, and that’s when she hears it.

“Hello?” A voice calls from within a small hamlet of trees. “Is anyone there?” It’s a higher voice, definitely a person, and it rings as vaguely familiar to Camila.

So Camila goes into the undergrowth.

The woman with her leg stuck in a hunter’s trap can’t be much older than Camila herself. She watches Camila approach with golden eyes tracking her every move. “Who are you?” She practically growls, eyes narrowing. Camila is abruptly reminded of a simple truth.

There is a wolf that stalks the forest.

Camila creeps forward, a hand outstretched in what she hopes is a calming way. “I’m the one who set that trap. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Oh,” the woman looks down, seeming to remember her cut up leg, “it’s a clever trap, I avoided the other ones but fell right into this one.”

“Why can’t you untie yourself?” Camila’s traps are made for rabbits and small game, not humans. The woman should easily be able to free herself.

“I… I broke my fingers last night. I can’t do anything precise right now. Can you please just get this off of me?” The woman snaps. She does seem to be hiding her hands behind her back, but she also has no real reason to lie.

Camila approaches further, grabbing out her knife to quickly cut through the wire. The woman shakes her leg free before stumbling a few steps back, away from Camila.

“Thank you. You—” the woman cuts herself off, glancing up at the sky, “get out of the woods, that wolf will be out again tonight.”

Camila nods slowly, “we can walk back together, I’m not sure your leg will hold up, it looked pretty mangled?”

The woman shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. I live further into the forest, not near the village.”

Further into the forest? Well the only house out there would be—oh shit.

“You’re the Magistrate’s daughter. Oh goodness, I am so sorry!”

The woman waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. I’ll be fine, you just need to get home soon.”

Darkness seems to fall over the forest all at once and the woman once again looks up at the sky nervously. “Go, Camila.”

There is a wolf that stalks the forest.

Camila runs, crashing through the undergrowth. The darkness falls and the forest is large and still. A wolf howls in the distance.

There is a wolf that stalks the forest. It is not hungry, it is trapped in barbed wire and fur and fangs and golden eyes that stare at Camila from the bushes. Camila sees it, makes eye contact and comes to a sudden stop.

The Magistrate’s daughter is in the forest.

The eyes blink.

The Magistrate’s daughter stalks the forest.

Camila runs.

#tried smthn a little more experimental with this one #hope you like!

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thewholecrew · 1 year

Text

@headstrongblake said: “forgive me. i’m tired, i’m cold, and i’m an ass.” / nicklas @ rev

it had been a tense couple of days since nick’s father barged his dumbass into their bar demanding drinks from nick all the while ignoring both rev and grant. it had pissed rev off, reminded them of their damn father; all smug smiles, arrogance he thought was confidence. all laughs like the shit he put them through was just a joke. a snarl escaped rev as they turned suddenly to send their fist flying into the nearby tree causing the wood to groan and trunk to sway. they wanted to tear the bastard to shreds if they were honest.

unlike their father, they had no connection or attachment to that asshole and if he was going to stick around he was just asking for it anyways. they hated the look they’d seen on nicks face, hated how he had to try and order rev around afterwards, as if they’d ever listened to him before -- this wouldn’t change shit. not in that regard anyways. their view of nick shifted the slightest, they’d always liked him despite how grumpy and annoying he was but they understood a bit more now why he’d refuse to fight. no one wants to end up like their old man, well no one rev knew anyways.

those past couple days rev had seen nothing of nick, only hearing from grant that he was busy. rev snorted at that, continuing to work at the bar in those early morning anyways. it wasn’t until late that night they heard rustling along the forest trail they usually took. a frown formed on their face and they stepped off the path, crouching low to watch and see who the hell was out here as late as they were. no way it was hunter -- and usually there was never anyone else.

rev? they heard a familiar voice call out before more scuffling and cursing. their lips curled into a smirk at that, waiting a moment longer before jumping out to scare him with a playful roar. they easily dodged the instinctual swing their way, ducking before popping up on the other side of nick with a laugh. “you should have seen your face!” rev teased, clapping him on the arm as they snickered. once they had a moment to compose themselves, wiping their eyes for dramatic effect, rev tilted their head. “the fuck you doin’ out here so late at night gramps?” they asked with a grin, “how’d you know i was out here?”

it wasn’t like rev made their business public but as he mentioned their brother, rev rolled their eyes. “of course,” they shrugged, bare arms crossing over their chest. “well, what do you want?” the question seemed to make nick a bit uncomfortable and rev watched how he shifted his weight as if trying to form words that didn’t want to come out. “get to it gramps, don’t got all night,” they urged with a roll of their eyes. it earned a tired sigh from nick, look. about the other day... rev snorted, “what day is that exactly?” they teased before shrugging, “whatever man, i’m not tryna know your business.”

it seemed like that was somewhat of the answer nick was looking for as he finally said, forgive me. i’m tired, i’m cold, and i’m an ass. rev gave another scoff, “an ass is for sure,” but their tone was far less cutting than it had been. “you’re fine, now cmon gramps lets get you back home before you catch a cold,” they teased, arm going around nick’s shoulders as they ruffled his hair. “you know, if you really wanna make it up to me you could still fight me, i saw that swing,” they mused with an impressed grin.

#headstrongblake #verse: all american.#ryan everheart: answered ask.

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Grown up Halloween day 12 The East Woods

Media the last legion

Character Romulus Augustus/Pendragon

Couple Romulus X Reader

Rating dark af / spooky/mentions of gore/ mentions of suicide

Halloween day 12

I walked through the town watching people around me come and go, when I saw the most beautiful sight, the little brown dress of y/n y/l/n the bakers daughter.

she always made me smile so much, she's beyond beautiful. Her body reminded me of her father's well-risen square loaves, which he would form into squares and then tie with twine giving a present-like shape, but she reminded me of them, in the sense of sweet curves and indents. I smiled going up close to her as she swept in front of the sweet little baked goods shop.

and in her distraction, I wrapped my arms around her waist nuzzling into her shoulder

"Helloo My delicious little blackberry pie" I smiled

"Ohh hello Romulus" she giggled

"how'd you know it was me?"

"For one know one else calls me that, and secondly I could feel the spiar pressing into my southern regions" she giggled

"Can you now?" I smirked giving her more kisses

"Where are you off to anyway?" she asks pushing me away so she could at least turn and see me

"Off to the east woods,"

"what on earth for?"

"foraging my love, I heard a rumour of some very delectable mushrooms yet to spore over by the lake in the east woods"

"Are you mad Romulus?"

"I mean... probably. but why do you ask?"

"Anyman to go walking in the east woods on hallows eve is as mad as a rabbit. you go a wondering in their tonight Romulus, I shall have to dawn a black veil"

"Ohh my sweet little pie, you listen to rumour and superstition far too much"

"And Yet I have never gotten my little bum in trouble"

"well your little bum never gets in trouble" I smiled giving her butt a pinch "But I need to go stalls getting low, I need some stock, especially in these autumn evenings people always want more for stews and such"

"Well, I am unable to tell you what to do Romulus. But I would not advise it"

"If I haven't come back will you come... looking for me in the morning?"

"Maybe"

"Or if I get too scared I could always... come and snuggle up in your little house?"

"You could" she smiled "You are always welcome" she giggled giving my cheek a kiss I gave her a few extra kisses before heading out to the east woods

I walked through the thick trees and bushed searching for anything of note. I never much went in the East woods they had dark rumours about them and I had always found the west woods plentiful so I didn't much bother, but it had been a very dry summer meaning now the woods where less plentiful then I needed them to be to supply the town so even if I didn't want to I had to take the walk.

The East woods where an unearthly place.

Tall looming trees.

Thick foliage that blocked the sun.

The woods so thick that once you stepped inside the outside was impossible to see.

The grass a dark merky colour.

The waters black or dark grey.

I gathered what I needed for the market stall, mushrooms, berries, veg, and even some game even if I wasn't ever much of a hunter.

Once my bag was filled I began walking my steps to get back to town but I only found myself going around and around in circles.

Without the sun or even much light if was impossible to tell how long id been here, everything seemed familiar and yet foreign to me.

Even my vision at points blurring and clearing intermittently.

I couldn't tell where I was or how long I had been here.

Every so often seen horrific flashed between the trees.

My parents blood soaked bodies.

The skeletons at the cliffs of Capri.

The goths sent after me to ensure my destruction.

The mask of the man from Britannia who came to kill me.

All of them as real as I had ever seen them.

Even the blood smelt real.

At a point o stopped trying to get my barrings but I tasted this horrid burnt taste in my mouth and when I tried to see what was happening my mouth was full of this thick black goo.

"Ahhhhhh! What the fuck is going on!"

"Romulus!" I heard her voice calling

"Y/n!"

"Romulus where are you?" She called but fading away

"I'm here!" I yelled

"Romulus!" She called but still fading so I got up and began to run in the direction I heard her voice

"Y/n! Y/n I'm here!" I screamed as loud as I could but she in got quieter and quieter

"Romulus? Where are you?"

"Y/n!"

"Romulus?" She called and I saw thought the tree's an orange lantern light

"Y/n! Thank god i-" I began running up to her but stopped short-

Finding the lantern on a tree branch and her body across a rock her eyes being pecked by dark ravens "y/n!" I screamed in panic

"Romulus!" She called making me turn in shock from hearing her voice and when I looked back to the rock nothing was there.

I rushed trying to find her and eventually saw her in her long cloak beside the river

"Oh there you are i-"

"Why did you go Romulus?"

"What?"

"Why did you go where I told you not to go" she cried "you've been gone for so long," she said moving back her cloak revealing she was withered and aged as if I had been fine a hundred years

"What's happened to you?"

"Why did you leave me?" She cried "I thought you loved me" she whailed as a wind blew thought turning her either body to nothing but bones which immediately dropped to the water below her skull floating up to look at me

I ran trying to find my way out of here

"It's all in my head. It's all in my head"

"Romulus!" She yelled angrily I turned and saw her stood between the trees

"Oh my god- I'm so happy to see you"

"I told you not to go walking in the woods Romulus" she smirked "now all of us must pay" she said

"What are you talking about?" She took a knife from behind her dress "y/n-" but before I could say another word she slit her throat sending blood everywhere.

I bolted as fast as I possibly could thought the woods I didn't care where I was going but surely I go one direction long enough I'll find a way out all the while her voice was calling me, which turned into begging me, which turned into screaming, and finally into wailing and crying a hundred of her voice in my head as if a chorus of witches has stolen her voice and where cackling at me begging me to remain with them.

And atlast I broke thought and I to the fields I took a breath and ran into town as fast as I could spotting y/n the real y/n still sweeping so I rushed to her and held her close giving her a million kisses

"Oh my god. Your okay. Oh your so beautiful. I'm a sorry. I'll never leave you again. Your okay. You feel okay? Oh my sweet little blackberry pie I'm so sorry"

"Romulus what on earth is the matter?"

"Your fine? Your okay?"

"Of course why wouldn't I be?"

"I- on the woods I- you came to find me? In the woods. I saw... Such terrible things"

"Why would I have come to find you?"

"Because I've been gone so long?"

"Romulus you've been gone about fifteen minutes" she says

"What?"

"I haven't seen finished shutting the shop up" she says "are you alright? Did you bang your head in there or something?"

"I - I don't know. I think I need a lay down"

"Alright I'll finish with the shop and you can stay the night with me so I can keep an eye on you" she smiled giving me a kiss.

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wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Back To You

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When putting yourself in danger for the sake of saving Dean leaves you lost in the woods, Dean is less than thrilled until he finally finds you again.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, mentions of blood, swearing, comfort, fluff

Dean was livid in that moment, and rightfully so. Any and every hunt has the potential to be dangerous no matter what it is, no matter how many times you’ve hunted that very same kind of monster. Each and every hunt is different and someone is always bound to get hurt, whether it be the hunter or the person you’re there to save.

That idea was something he could handle, something he could prepare himself for. But he was never ready when that person was you.

You’d gone and done it this time. You went and spiked his worry, his fear, sent it sky high all for the sake of saving him. To him, nothing was worth losing you, especially not himself. The fact that he was worth enough to someone to risk their own life just to keep him safe was laughable to him, especially when it was you who held him in such a high regard.

Of course you did. He didn’t give himself enough credit, he didn’t give himself any credit at all. There was no one who hated Dean Winchester more than he did himself, and that very feeling was something that boiled over that hunt.

Two werewolves. Three hunters against two werewolves seemed like something you could handle. Take that and add it to the fact that you’re in the woods in late fall and it becomes more difficult. Somehow, some way they got the upper hand on the three of you, targeting Dean. Maybe they knew he was a sweet spot to the two of you, maybe it was just dumb luck, but their efforts seemed to work out for them.

There was no way you’d let them do anything to Dean, not if you were there to do something about it and that’s exactly what you did. Against Dean’s wishes you shoved him out of the way before they could, the swipe of her claws grazing across your cheek instead of his. It wasn’t as deep as it probably would have been, but it stung nevertheless. But that was only the very start of Dean’s nightmare, because you’d gone and lured her away before he could stop you.

He knew you. He knew you were strong and he knew you could hold your own, but this isn’t some run of the mill vampire or a phony spirit. It was a werewolf with more than enough of an appetite and twice the strength.

Now here you were, stranded in the woods all by yourself with a dull and bloodied silver blade and a limp in your stride, your ankle strained from tripping in the midst of your fight with fangs and claws. You held your own, you took care of her yourself with more than enough of a struggle on her end. But you had no idea where you were and which direction was the right one, no clue at all just how far you were from Sam and Dean. You didn’t know if that other werewolf got away and came to finish you off.

All you had was yourself and a dead phone, and your own two fists.

It was getting darker out, the cold fall day turning colder now that nightfall was just around the corner. The drizzling rain didn’t help your cause, muddying the path you tried to follow as you navigated through tall trees and fallen leaves. They crunched every time you took a step, the sound near deafening in contrast to the quiet of the woods.

You were too afraid to call out for Dean, didn’t want to draw attention to yourself should it still be lurking. You were an easy target at this point—you were tired and you were weak.

Of all the hunts you’d been on, you can’t remember feeling quite so bad as this one. The scratches on your face burned and ached, the dirt that was surely smeared across it doing nothing to help as you tried your hardest not to touch your cheek. Your ankle throbbed with every step, the pressure placed upon it nearly pushing you to tears as you walked along as quickly as you could, hoping more than anything that you weren’t leading yourself further away from them, further away from Dean.

You knew he’d be mad, you knew he’d be absolutely livid when he finds you. If he finds you. That very thought weighed heavy on your mind and made your stomach twist in knots and swirl with nausea. There was a very real possibility that they wouldn’t, your battery was dead and it was getting all the more dark outside and you knew what your chances were but you tried not to think about it. You tried but it stayed in the back of your mind and tried desperately to push to the front of it.

He’d be pissed, he would and you knew it because putting your own life on the line for the sake of saving his was never something he’d want you of all people to do. You wouldn’t be surprised if he asked you to stop hunting with them, and the thought alone made a pang run through your heart.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought, brows furrowed as you took a deep breath. You’d hunted a myriad of different monsters, more than you can count and certainly a terrifying array of them. They were deadly and they were scary, they were dangerous and they were cruel but you couldn’t help the fear that settled within you now the sky was nearly completely dark. The lack of moonlight had worked against you, nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of you amongst dozens and dozens of trees. Every gust of wind, every noise, everything.

You were scared.

You didn’t dare use your flashlight, too scared to cast attention upon yourself and you found it impossible for anything out there to not be able to spot you. You felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb with the way you heard your heartbeat in your ears louder than ever. Or the way your breaths were shaky and labored and unable to be controlled.

The rain that drizzled a little heavier over you was beginning to seep through your clothes, chilling any exposed skin and wetting your hair almost completely by this point. You were sure it’d be worse if there weren’t any trees, but then again you didn’t get so lucky.

You couldn’t help but remind yourself how utterly on your own you were, body stiff as you walked along in the mud. The mere sound of a stick snapping in the near distance had you on edge, tears welling in your eyes as you weighed over the options of your fate in your mind in a taunting loop of negativity and fear.

Your lip quivered and your hands shook, clutching tight to your bag as you looked all around you. Tears mixed with rain to the point where you couldn’t even tell if you’d been crying real tears if it weren’t for the pressure behind your eyes and the ache you felt from trying to suppress them. You weren’t going to bother trying to act tough in that moment, there was no need when it was just you.

It wasn’t until then that you heard that voice, the gruffness of that ever familiar voice in an echo of your name. Your heart flipped in your chest and at first you thought you might have just imagined it, might have just thought you heard it amongst the rain, but it sounds again.

“Dean?” You said softly, disbelief in your voice before you raised it. “Dean!”

You picked up your pace in his direction, glancing over your shoulder cautiously. The tears rolled faster and your heart rate spiked, that fear in your mind lessening a fraction at the sound of his voice even if it was still not as close as you’d like.

You overlooked the pain in your ankle no matter how much it hurt, too distracted with finding your way back to Sam and Dean. The sooner you found them the sooner you could get out of those woods, and the sooner you could get cleaned up in a place much kinder on the eyes than tree after tree in a rain-dampened and dark area.

It felt like something straight out of a movie and you were waiting for the antagonist to pop out in front of you, waiting to be preyed upon by some big scary monster and you knew that wasn’t so far out of the question for you. Not with the life you had.

The distinct sound of sticks snapping and leaves crunching behind you was unmissable, unmistakable as you tensed. You swallowed thickly at the slosh of the footfalls behind you, heart hammering nearly too loud to hear anything else. It wasn’t until you felt a hand grab your elbow that you screamed once more, expecting to hear Dean call out from farther away at the sound of it. You screamed and you turned around, eyes wide with fear.

“Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Dean,” he rushed, voice calmer than you expected.

It took you a moment for you to realize, for your eyes to bounce over his face and for the fear to settle and your frown was inevitable as you fought your tears.

In a matter of seconds you wrapped your arms around him, face hidden against his chest and you didn’t care how much it hurt the scratches adorning your cheek. That tension you held loosened considerably in his embrace, and it’s something he didn’t fail to notice. You missed the way his brows furrowed as his chin rested atop your head or the purse in his lips, the way he squeezed his eyes shut or the look of relief he gave Sam with traces of worry and anger within it.

He found you now, and you were safe.

You were quiet as you stood at the small bathroom counter, leaned over the edge a little as you cleaned around the scratches on your cheek. You were proving to do an awful job and you could see it by the look on Dean’s face when he walked in the bathroom. He could see the way you winced even from where he stood by the bed of the motel room, he saw it and he knew you hated doing it.

“C’mon,” he said, patting the counter a couple times.

“I got it, Dean,” you say softly, the sharp gasp you take in immediately after doing nothing to help you.

You sigh as you drop the dampened cotton ball in his palm, hopping up on the counter. You saw the dimples by the corners of his mouth and you saw the crease between his brows, telling of just how discontent he truly was and it had you biting the inside of your other cheek.

He was quick to clean it up with a light hand, careful not to hurt you as his other hand settled on your cheek to hold you still. You could feel the tension in the small room, could cut it with a knife, and it wasn’t going to go away any time soon so long as none of you said anything.

You tried to think about the way his breath fanned over your face instead, soft and warm in the pattern of his breathing as he cleaned you up with all the gentleness in the world. Gentle and tender despite the frustration simmering in the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill.

Actually, it did.

“We gonna talk about what happened today?” He asked, voice quiet and tone angry as his brow raised a fraction.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, averting your gaze as you turned your head, only for him to redirect it back as he finished what he was doing.

“‘Course not,” he said, breathing out a huff through his nose.

You roll your eyes and hop down from the counter, hearing his sigh as he tossed the dirtied cotton ball in the trash along with the others you’d gone through, his lips pressing together momentarily as he followed behind you into the room.

You still weren’t over it, you were still shaken despite this being your own fault. It was your fault and you knew that, you were the one playing hero and while you didn’t regret it for a second, you were still on the verge of tears. You were still cold and upset and still reaping the consequences of your decision by the pain on your face and in your ankle.

“Yeah, ‘course not,” you say, tightening his flannel around your shoulders before digging around in your duffel bag.

It didn’t last very long as he grabbed your hand and spun you around to face him, his displeasure more than evident.

“Please don’t try and save me, sweetheart, I’m not—”

“What, you’re not worth it?” You say, watching his lips purse deeper. “You might think that about yourself but I never will, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“You nearly died, Y/n. Do you understand that?” He says, voice a little louder now. “You almost died out there all by yourself. How the hell am I supposed to live with that? How easy do you think it’d be for me to go on every damn day knowing you died just to save my ass?”

You were quiet for a moment as you looked up at him, brows knitted together. “Well, I’m not dead, Dean. So I guess you don’t have to.”

He scoffed as he threw his hands up, letting one fall back to his side as the other pinches the bridge of his freckled nose for a moment or two. He hates how you’re brushing this off, hates how you don’t know just how much of a wreck he was. Sam had never seen his brother so distraught, had never seen him so turned upside down the moment you were lost. It tore him to shreds, tore him apart from the inside out until he found you and that feeling still won’t stop. It won’t stop because he knows this won’t be the last time you do it.

“I’m not worth it, alright? I’m not worth layin’ six feet under, sweetheart. And not by the hands of some freakin’ werewolf either,” he says, frustrated as ever.

Your brows furrow deeper, frown tugs down deeper as you look at him.

“You think you’re the only one that gets to protect people? You think you’re the only one that gets to save someone? Is that what you think, Dean?”

“Y/n—”

“You might not give a damn about yourself, in fact, I know you don’t give a crap,” you say, your finger poking into his chest. “But I do. I care.”

You hated the way your voice faltered and the way your lip wobbled under the pressure of your tears, hated the way those very tears glossed over your eyes, ready to fall with a mere blink. He saw it, he saw it all and he pulled you close before you could crumble completely.

His hand ran over your head, hair still rain dampened and he could feel just how cold you still were. He could feel the way you shook, no matter how faint it was. You could act tough all you want, but he knew you were hurting and he knew when to shut up. You were stronger than he’d ever be, that’s how he always saw you and always will. But you fall apart sometimes and he’ll pick up the pieces without hesitation every single time. Every time.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m still here,” he murmured, words soft against your skin as he kissed your forehead.

You nod against him then, sniffling softly. You take a little while for your tears to die down, a little while of the soft sways of his embrace and it’s one that’s near bone crushing, of the way his thumb brushed back and forth against your shoulder blade, or the way his stubble felt brushing against your forehead.

It took a little while until you pulled back a bit, looking up at him with that look that turns his heart to mush every single time you give it. He sees those scratches on your face and he’s biting his tongue, fighting the anger that’s beginning to bubble up once more. Not at you, but at that werewolf that was two seconds from tearing his sweetheart to shreds. The thought made him furious but he pushed it down for your sake.

You lean on your toes and kiss him softly, one that lingered as his hand settled on your cheek. He kissed you once, twice, three times more as his nose bumps against your own, foreheads pressed against one another as your hand presses lightly around the back of his neck, your thumb brushing along his jaw. It set him at ease, you know it did.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere either,” you murmur, feeling his nod against you, felt his hum against your lips before he kisses you again. You knew he wouldn’t let it go that easily, knew it for a fact, but he’d bring it up some other day.

He’d always find you, you could count on it—he’d always find his way back to you.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 2 years

Text

I'm so sorry guys, I totally forgot I completed this last August. I don't know how I forgot but thank the stranger who talked about werewolf Joseph for reminding me.

Little red hood pt2

You felt tired from your hike from the woods, you sat down by the square to rest your poor legs. You watched the bustling town move. An old man noticed you and offered to help take your luggage to the inn but you politely declined.

"So what are you here for?" He asked, perplexed by why a young woman would be sitting around the town square.

"I need to find a monster hunter, any chance the famous Lisa Lisa is in town?" You asked him.

"Oh she's been on a pretty long trip, as of now she's looking for a band of vampires who have been attacking the nearby cities" he replied.

"I don't know when she'll return" he continued before a large hand shoved him out of the way.

"Oi can you beat it wrinkles, I don't think she's looking for a has been" the familiar brunette snarky insulted the old man, who was far too intimidated to stay around.

"Well I'm not looking for an disrespectful prick" you responded to the male.

"Aw come on, are you playing hard to get or what?" He scoffed as he placed a hand on your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. You glared daggers at the man before stepping on his foot causing him to nearly lose his footing, which allowed you to get some space.

"Do you not know any boundaries!" You sneered as you looked at him before hearing a crowd roar.

"So what are you here for?" He asked but you chose to ignore him.

You turned your head to see a large group following a dark haired woman as she dragged the disfigured body of a creature that you couldn't distinguish from your distance.

"Hey don't ignore me! I asked you something!" The brunette shouted as he tried to reach out to grab you but you started to sprint towards the crowd.

"Just leave me the hell alone, I have some bigger priorities to sort out!" You yelled at him as you tried to lose him and catch up to Lisa Lisa. Soon disappearing into the crowd of people cheering the famed hunter.

After the people dissipated you went to get a quick drink and decided to stay at the inn as you wanted to leave the lady some time to relax from her hunt before you requested her help. As you rested yourself you couldn't help but feel something was off, like something was lurking.

Sure it could have been that creep that seemed to appear wherever you were but he didn't strike you as someone to fear, if anything he struck you as someone who was all bark and no bite. If anything you were more concerned that the werewolf was stalking you, waiting for the next full moon to attack.

🍄🍄🍄

When the cold morning came your body refused to leave the bed after a night of tossing and turning as you struggled to sleep. You ended up managing to sleep for a few more hours before heading down stairs to get some breakfast, you placed your order and took your seat at a table before grabbing a book to read. It seemed all too pleasant until that familiar face showed itself again as the male sat at your table.

"What a coincidence, but I'm not complaining since I keep getting to see your pretty face" he commented, while you rolled your eyes.

"It feels more like you're stalking me" you replied as you looked back at your book.

"Well I should say the same to you, you're probably just too nervous to admit it" he snickered.

You gritted your teeth at him as you tried your hardest to keep your cool.

"I'm only here looking for a monster hunter" you bluntly replied. You saw a smile appear on the males face.

"Well you're in luck, I'm a traveling monster hunter myself" he announced.

You had a moment of deadpan before you began to laugh.

"Wow, I'm sure you're easy bait" you snickered.

"But honestly, cut the bullshit… it's not impressing me" you continued. He seemed offended by your words. You returned back to your book once more before he slapped his hand over your book.

"I'm not lying, my grandfather was Jonathan Joestar, one of the greatest hunters to live" he protested.

"To be honest I wouldn't trust you, you seem very incompetent" you scowled.

Your eyes moved to a lady who placed your food on the table and thanked her before looking towards the male again.

"Besides I'm looking for Lisa Lisa, I know that she's a trustworthy woman who won't take advantage of my situation" you explained.

"Now will you please let me eat by myself" you hissed as you grabbed your fork and knife and began to cut up some of the toast on your plate.

"Alright but if Lisa Lisa declines I'll be waiting here for you" he offered as he stood up and pushed his chair in before leaving.

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere joseph joestar #halloween au #monster au

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stetervault · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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