#an act of kindness (kaden)

[magmahearts]

TIMING: late april / early may. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @magmahearts LOCATION: the woods. SUMMARY: cass comes across a wolf-like beast in the woods and calls in kaden for backup. CONTENT: none!

When you spent as much time as Cass did acting as Wicked’s Rest’s resident superhero, you got used to seeing a lot of strange things. Animals that weren’t the kind human textbooks listed in their index, people who did things that made little sense, beings that seemed to be both of those things at once… Cass liked to think she’d pretty much seen it all. But that didn’t necessarily mean she recognized things when she saw them. She was pretty much learning all this on the fly. No one had ever really taught her anything beyond a few quiet lessons here and there. She’d never had, like, extensive supernatural survival training. 

So… she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at here. It looked lupine, but it didn’t look quite like Alex had when she’d taken down Rhett to save Cass, or the werewolf she’d led into her caves to keep it from hurting anyone. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything, did it? Fae were fairly diverse without their glamours; were werewolves’ shifted forms the same? She hadn’t seen enough of them to know for sure.

Luckily, she knew someone who had. 

She made sure to follow the maybe-werewolf at a safe distance as she called Kaden, rattling off her location and asking him to hurry. If this was a shifted werewolf, they might need help. And if it wasn’t… It might be trouble.

—

Kaden knew that a call from Cass only meant one of two things: a prank, or something serious was going on. Thankfully he only assumed the latter because when he picked up, the fae was saying something about a potential werewolf that she saw shift and run off into the woods. All he could do was hope that she stayed far enough away from the beast until he got there. He wasn’t sure what she meant when she said it looked “different,” but he wasn’t going to waste too much time asking questions on the phone – there would be time for that when he got there. 

It didn’t take too long to track her down and lucky for him, she wasn’t too hard to spot. He made sure to bring weapons for him and some gear for her too, just in case. He had no clue if she knew how to use any of it but he figured a knife couldn’t be that hard to get a grip on and it was better than nothing. “Hey,” Kaden said as he gave the kid a small wave. “So am I the sidekick again today or what?”

He wasn’t sure what they were up against or if he should be quiet now or if they had some space. “How far did it get?” He paused and realized maybe he shouldn’t get right down to business. “And, uh, how are you?” It had been a little bit since Alex had been away and he’d seen less of Cass around the cabin because of it. Not to mention, he spent less time there himself as of late. “Been a little bit since you bullied me into watching some superhero thing or another.” 

—

There was never any question about whether or not Kaden would come, just as there hadn’t been when Alex called him all those months ago after their altercation with Rhett. Kaden, Cass thought, was a steady force. He was a foundation you could build upon. He was like a rock, in that way — firm and definite. She knew she could count on Kaden, even if she was no longer certain she could count on the person who’d brought them together in the first place. Alex was gone, but Kaden was here. Cass still thought that mattered.

She grinned, returning his wave as he got close. “You’re always the sidekick,” she replied cheerily. “Like — Oh, actually, is it offensive to say ‘like Frenchie in Moon Knight’ ? Because Frenchie’s a cool guy. I’m not just saying it because you’re French. Even though you are French, and he’s French, so it kind of works double.”

But there were more serious things to worry about than Moon Knight’s French sidekick, and Cass knew it. Her expression turned a little more serious at his question, and she nodded her head firmly. “I’m not sure. I was trying to hang back. I thought that was probably what you’d tell me to do.” Her expression turned a little lighter at his question, something soft seeping into it. She’d been bad, for a while. After Alex left, she’d felt just as defective as she had when she’d been cast out of her aos si, like she’d done something wrong and bad and worth leaving over. But now, lately… “I’ve been good.” There was a warmth back in her cave that hadn’t been present before. This, Cass thought, must have been what people meant when they spoke about a father’s love. “How are you? Have you been okay in the cabin?” He was alone there now, wasn’t he? It must have been strange. It must have been sad. 

—

“Right, should have known.” Kaden sighed, though he wasn’t sure how genuine his exhaustion really was. He wasn’t about to let on to the kid, but he found her babbling about superheroes endearing. She could never know, though. Couldn’t encourage it. Then he might have to actually try to understand any of it and that sounded harder than taking down any werewolf. “I don’t think it’s offensive. Unless he’s Canadian.”

While they talked, Kaden crouched down to check the area that Cass pointed to. His eyes swept for any paw prints, claw marks, broken branches, anything that might clue him in to what exactly they were headed towards. There was a clear trail of damaged foliage headed in the direction Cass had pointed out. If he had to guess, that’s where they should start looking. “Good job,” he said, trying to hold back his smile. He was more than relieved to learn that she hadn’t thrown herself directly into danger without him or anyone else’s help. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had, especially a few months ago, before the run in with— Right, he didn’t like to think about that, the sight of her rocky skin covered in blood. Surely she didn’t need the reminder about it, either. 

“Good? That’s good,” he repeated as he followed the trail of scuffs and scratches in the dirt deeper into the woods. He was afraid that might not have been her answer given everything. “I’ve been alright. Can’t say I’m at the cabin that much anymore, though.” He tried to smile again but it was half-hearted. Sure, he might have been over at the farmhouse just as much had Andy and Alex not left the cabin empty, but it was hard to say. He definitely took strides to avoid being there by himself when he could help it. It was fine if Monty was there, it made the reality of the place easier to ignore. Otherwise, the echo of his own footsteps was just a reminder that his family had gone. Not that he didn’t support them, either of them, but it was hard to feel like the thing he’d been searching for for so long, real family, was a little farther away again. “It’s not the same when it’s quiet.” He huffed out a laugh at the irony — not so long ago, he would have longed for more quiet moments in the cabin. Guess the grass was always greener.

Except for the grass to the left of them. That grass was chopped up by claws that had dug into the ground, kicking up the dirt and weeds. He could feel the familiar pin pricks down his spine starting to tingle. They were definitely headed in the right direction. “We’re getting closer,” he warned her. “You’re ready to drop your glamor, right?” He figured it would keep her a little safer if she was in her form covered in rocks and magma. It would be harder to bit through, at least. Unless… His brows furrowed. “That would make it safer, yeah? Or are you still rock with it up?” It wasn’t exactly something they’d covered in hunter training. He wasn’t a warden so his knowledge of fae was already limited, not to mention, they weren’t exactly learning how to keep fae safe. 

—

Kaden didn’t seem offended to learn that he was a perpetual sidekick, nor did he seem upset at being compared to Frenchie. Cass flashed him a grin. “No, he’s French-French. I think he was in the French secret service or something. Is it offensive to be Canadian?” Wasn’t Leila French-Canadian? Cass wondered if she should be offended on Leila’s behalf here, but she doubted Kaden was trying to insult anybody. He wasn’t mean, he was just… French.

This was evidenced by what he said next. He said good job, and it felt like a fire had been lit inside her chest. Pride burned through her, the flames dancing and sparking and setting her whole body alight. It was a small miracle that she managed to keep her glamour up in her excitement, though her eyes did glow just a little with the joy of it. She tried not to let it show too much for fear of coming on too strong, of making Kaden uncomfortable and risking him taking back the praise. She shot for something a little more nonchalant as she nodded. “Yeah, if you’re not careful, I’ll totally take your job,” she teased with a grin that was a little too wide to really sell her ‘totally don’t care’ attitude.

The joy in her chest burned a little hotter when he seemed to care about her answer, when he said it was good that she was good. Cass had spent so much of her life so desperate for people to care about her that, when someone revealed that they did, it felt like a life-changing level of victory. It surged through her so intensely that it was just short of an eruption. “Oh, really? Where are you staying now, mostly? Do you still keep cheese in the cabin?” She liked his cheese. She could probably go take some if he wasn’t there all the time. “Yeah.” Her smile faded just a little at the thought of the empty cabin. Wasn’t it funny how something that had once held the whole world within its walls could fall empty after a while? “I get that.” Even her cave felt emptier than it used to without Alex around to fill the space, though that was changing now that someone else was around to fill it. She couldn’t tell Kaden about her new visitor, but… she could let him know she was okay. She thought he’d like knowing that.

She trailed along behind him as he moved, reflecting none of his careful trek in her own steps. Cass would walk and chatter and carry on until he told her not to, because she wasn’t really good at this kind of thing. She was a superhero who burst in with a quip to save the day, not the kind who snuck around and did things in secret. She was way more Spider-Man than Black Widow. “I’m still rocky,” she told him with a hum. “The glamour’s just, like… a mask.” She didn’t used to think of it that way, but that was how her father described it and so that was how it was. The glamour wasn’t her. “Do you know what we’re looking for? Is it a werewolf? Was I right?”

—

“Only if you’re French,” Kaden answered with a small smile. “I’m sure the Canadians don’t care one way or another. But that’s because they’re not French.” No matter how much they wanted to be or seemingly tried to be. 

“That so?” He looked back at her, brow raised and trying to hold back the smile betraying his attempt at stoicism. So much about Cass reminded him of Alex – and not just because of how linked the two of them were in his mind for a while. She was energetic and stubborn and smart and a pain in the ass. And he’d absolutely put his life on the line for her. Maybe that wasn’t saying much, he had a tendency to throw himself into the line of fire more often than not, but this was different. In the way he’d drop everything if she asked. Hell, in the way he had dropped everything for her now. “Guess I’ll have to stay on my toes.” He wondered how much she knew that, if she knew that he would be there for her whether or not Alex was in the picture. He wondered if he should say that.

Then again, she had called him. And he came. And he’d always been better at showing than telling.

“You know,” he started, eyes still fixed on the trail in front of them, “could maybe set up some sort of internship with animal control. If you wanted.” He felt foolish as soon as the words left his lips. It was probably stupid and not something she cared about or wanted to do. Kaden quickly tried to shift the subject. “Right. Anyway, been staying at the farmhouse.” He realized that might not be as clear as he wanted it to be. “Uh, with Monty. At the farm. You know, his farm.” He was sure she was glad he clarified the completely obvious. Putain, it wasn’t even technically his farm anymore, he’d given it to Daisy to run, but everyone there knew that at the core, Monty was the beating heart of the farm, even though his own heart had stopped decades ago. “There’s still cheese. And food.” Too much food. “I keep cooking for five people. Haven’t gotten out of the habit.” That was definitely the reason, that he kept forgetting he didn’t have to feed Alex and Andy, too. It was not at all because he wanted to make sure he had provisions for people like Cass, Mack, and Ariadne. Just in case they needed it. Because that would be idiotic.

Kaden tried to swallow back the flush of embarrassment that lodged in his throat. “Oh. Guess that makes sense.” He really should have known that, that the glamour was just a mask. Hopefully that didn’t damper her confidence in him. He may not know the most about fae, but supernatural beasts? He was an expert. “Hard to say,” he said, trying to get a closer look at the tracks in the dirt, looking for any little detail that he may have missed. “It could be a werewolf. About the right size. Fast. Sharp claws. Movement doesn’t seem the most deliberate, a little less controlled. Definitely dangerous. But it’s not exactly a full moon. There’s a lot of other canine creatures so it’s hard to say for sure. What color was the fur, did you see?” He looked back at her, wondering if she remembered anything more. “Was it black? What about the ears were they–”

The sharp shattering of branches silenced the ranger, his gaze shot to the direction of the sound, and a blur of fur and teeth burst out from the bramble. Kaden’s arm jumped out in front of Cass, not just to stop her in her tracks, but in some attempt at a shield, like it would be enough to keep the danger at bay, like it could keep fangs from sinking into her. It was hard to say exactly what it was in the commotion beyond an angry fucking monster, but instincts kicked in all the same. His free hand wrapped around his pistol and he fired at the creature, hoping it would focus on him. “Run!” he shouted at the fae, hoping that maybe, for once, she’d listen.

—-

“And you think they want to be French?” She squinted, tilting her head to the side as she tried to understand. Was it an enviable thing, being French? She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard as much but, then, her experience probably wasn’t a normal one. Cass wasn’t even human; what could she really understand about being French? 

She’d worried for a while after Alex left that she’d lose this, too. Kaden never seemed to mind her when she spent hours on end sprawled out on the couch in the cabin or hanging out in Alex’s room, but some small part of her mind always warned her that he only really put up with her for Alex’s sake. Kaden, Cass had thought, didn’t care anything about her on her own. But… Alex left, and he was still here. He still came when she called, still told her she’d done a good job even when all she’d done was not run headfirst into danger. It was exhilarating to know that Kaden cared about her, even with Alex out of the picture. “It’s okay,” she assured him with a grin. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Her heart seemed to stutter-step at his comment, and she turned to face him quickly. “Wait, really? I’m — I mean, I’m not very… good at jobs. I tried a couple. A flower shop, a record store, a museum, a casino… I just kept getting fired.” It still stung a little, even now. “I wouldn’t want to mess work up for you or anything.” Even if she did think it would be fun to work in animal control — and especially to work with Kaden. She’d have a blast annoying him all day. He moved on quickly, though, and she thought she should respect him and do the same. She let out a little oooooh as he mentioned he’d been living with Monty, grin widening even further. “Do you milk cows? Do you ride horses together? Oh my god. You’re like the little Roman soldier from Night at the Museum, and he’s the little cowboy!” Excitement built up in her chest at the realization, followed by the quiet pang that had now replaced the desire to text Alex with new Kaden-related revelations. 

“Well, if you’re making too much food, anyway, I can come take some off your hands,” she said, hopping up to balance on a log as she walked beside him. Her arms shot out to help her balance, and she hummed. “I guess it’s different than what you’re used to, huh? With werewolves and stuff.” Shifters used to confuse her for the same reason. Trying to recall the color of the fur, Cass stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth in careful concentration. Was it black, or had it just been a dark gray? Had the ears looked like a wolf, or —

A noise off to the side grabbed her attention alongside Kaden’s, and she turned towards it quickly. She tensed as a shape jumped out at her, but… Kaden got in the middle. He jumped up to protect her, to keep her safe, and Cass’s breath caught in her throat. He told her to run, but there was no way she was leaving him. She dropped her glamour, figuring she’d be better off using that small amount of concentration she used to keep it up elsewhere and hoping to spook the creature in the process. “Hey!” She shouted, waving her arms. The magma in her veins glowed, and she hoped it would capture the thing’s attention. “Look at me! Ooga booga booga!”

—

Kaden shrugged off her hesitation. “I’m not good at jobs either. This is probably the only real one I’ve managed this long.” Before, work was something he just did in between hunting. Temporary jobs were better and bartering in favors were common. So this was all new to him. Didn’t hate it, though. “Helps having an advantage.” Especially considering he likely wouldn’t have the job at all if he weren’t a ranger and one of the few applicants that weren’t scared off by the position’s death rate. “Anyway, pretty sure you can’t mess it up. They know they can’t afford to fire me. Plus, if they did, Gary would have to leave his desk for once. I think the only way you could mess things up for me is if you set the police station on fire or something.” Then again… “Wouldn’t be the worst thing, honestly.” Maybe he shouldn’t encourage that.

“Yes, we take care of the animals and ride horses and– wait, the Roman soldier from where?” What the hell did a museum have to do with a farm? Kaden gave his head a small shake, accepting that this was one of the many moments where he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, couldn’t figure out what she was referencing, or how it matched up to the current conversation, but she was too excited to steer her off course. Or back on course. Whichever it was. Didn’t matter too much, he never wanted to snuff out the joy bubbling up from her anyway, even when he defaulted to his standard grumbling responses. And it was the same reason he decided not to elaborate on what had happened at the farm recently. “Take as much food as you want,” he said, biting back the grin trying to slide onto his face. “I’ll even take requests.”

Her menu orders would have to come later, though. Right now, the monster gashing its maw at them was more important. If Kaden didn’t know any better, he would have assumed this was a werewolf. He couldn’t say if that was preferable to the reality of the situation. A qutrub was dangerous in ways that werewolves weren’t, their mannerisms slightly different, enough to interrupt the ranger’s instinctive rhythm when facing off against a wolf. He’d have to stay on his toes, keep his guard up. Especially given how infectious a quturb bite was to anyone who wasn’t a ranger or slayer. And Kaden didn’t know if Cass was safe as a fae or if she was just as vulnerable. The best thing to do was to make sure they didn’t find out. The best thing for her to was to get out of–

A string of curse words erupted from him like a goddamn volcano. She wasn’t supposed to get the monster to chase her while she ran away, she was supposed to get to safety. The beast ran at her and Kaden took aim again with his pistol. 

The shot landed and the bull– “Putain de merde.” It wasn’t a bullet. It was a goddamn tranq. And it may have hit, but it wasn’t going to slow the thing down for another few minutes. Those minutes were going to feel like a goddamn eternity – time that they didn’t have. The ranger managed to find more curse words as he shoved the pistol back in its holster, scrambling to grab the crossbow off his back. He’d half hoped that the creature would turn its attention to him after he attacked it, but the glow of the lava flowing in the cracks between the nymph’s skin was too enticing for the quturb to look away. Kaden ran behind her, placing her between himself and the monster. “Duck!” he shouted as he aimed the crossbow at the monster, hoping to hit before its claws came anywhere near Cass. If nothing else, he hoped it would give him enough time to put himself between the two of them, to get her out of harm’s way.

—

If Kaden’s attempts at employment were similar to her own, maybe Cass didn’t need to feel quite so ashamed by them. After all, weren’t there worse people to emulate? Kaden was a good man, even if he was a hunter. He wasn’t like Rhett, who had terrified and traumatized her, or even Parker, who had agreed not to hurt her only as long as she was on her best behavior. Kaden, she thought, didn’t need to make such promises. And wasn’t that what she wanted to be like? Someone who helped people, a hero in her own right? Kaden was strong and protective and good, and Cass wanted to be the same. So she smiled, she nodded her head. “That actually sounds really fun. Um, you know, if it’s… something you wanted, I’d totally be interested.” She could do good work as a superhero and as an animal control intern.

And she could annoy Kaden. That was a very important perk.

Of course Kaden didn’t know Night at the Museum. She hadn’t expected him to. It was a little funny that, of the two of them, Cass knew far more about human pop culture than the guy who was actually human. (Human plus, sure, but still human!) She rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head. “We have got to have another movie night soon, dude. Maybe at your farm. With your booooooyfriiiiiiend.” She dragged the word out in a singsong, still grinning as she said it. “And you can cook!” She’d have to… find a way to slip away at the end that wouldn’t make Kaden freak out, though. The last thing she needed was for him to follow her back to her cave and stumble upon Makaio. She was pretty sure both men would get the wrong idea, and it would end poorly for everyone involved. 

But only if this didn’t end poorly first. Cass had no idea what the thing coming at them was. Was it a werewolf? It looked different than Alex had when she’d launched herself at Rhett, and different than the werewolf she’d led into the labyrinth of Wicked’s Rest’s cave system, too. Whatever it was, there was no way she was leaving it alone with Kaden. He was tough and he was strong and he was brave, but that didn’t mean he could take everything on by himself. That didn’t mean he should have to. 

He probably wasn’t happy she stayed behind. Actually, no, scratch that — given the long string of what she could only assume was very French cursing, he definitely wasn’t happy she stayed behind. But Cass was a superhero, and superheroes didn’t run from trouble. 

The maybe-a-werewolf charged at her, but Cass hadn’t planned any farther than ‘get its attention.’ She looked at Kaden over the top of the beast’s head, waiting for him to take aim with his gun. He did… but what it fired weren’t deadly bullets. Of course they weren’t. Because Kaden was good, and good men didn’t load their weapons with deadly projectiles long before they knew what they’d be aiming for. 

For a moment, she was sure the beast was going to sink its teeth into her, but Kaden was there again. Kaden was always there — that was part of what she liked about him. She ducked without question when he asked, and his crossbow took aim. It was sure to be more effective than the tranqs from the gun, she thought. But if that didn’t work… “What is this thing? Is it — Is it a person? I can attack it with my magma, but I don’t want to hurt a person.”

—

She ducked and the arrow pierced the monster’s shoulder, sending it tumbling back with a roar of pain. Kaden would have to load another arrow in the meantime. Or consider melee. Both were risky. But at least he couldn’t be turned if the thing bit him. Cass, on the other hand… He wasn’t sure what a bite did to fae. All he knew was he didn’t want to fucking find out. 

“Not a person,” he shouted back as he fumbled to reload the crossbow. “Quturb. Like a werewolf and a spawn combined. No humanity left, though.” He wanted to tell her to run, to just leave this all to him. She shouldn’t risk her life here, that wasn’t her job. It was his. This was his birthright, for whatever the fuck that was worth. It was his battle to fight and his job to protect people. That included Cass. It more than included Cass. 

But it wasn’t like she was defenseless. She was covered in volcanic rock and split with veins of magma. She harbored the power of a volcano within her, something that no ranger could compete with on the best day. Even then, Kaden wanted to reach out and pull her behind him, throw himself between the monster that was stumbling to its feet and her. 

Instead, he was going to have to trust her, trust that she knew her capabilities, that she wasn’t being reckless. “Do it,” he called out to her. He took a few steps back and finished loading his weapon, hoping to be ready to land any killing shot they needed if for whatever reason something went wrong. “Be careful!” he added. “Don’t let it bite you, don’t get too–” His words fell away as the beast sprung to life and launched itself at them once again. 

—

Despite Kaden’s reassurance that the creature attacking them had no humanity left in it, Cass couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at its cries of pain. It was hard, still, not to think of Alex. It was hard not to remember that the only time she’d ever seen the werewolf in wolf form, it had been when she was saving Cass’s life. She wondered if Kaden thought of her, too, wondered if he struggled to see something inhuman instead of something that looked a little too much like someone he loved.

“What’s a spawn?” She could only understand half of the comparison. Most of Cass’s experiences with the supernatural were with either fae or the more sentient kinds of beasts and undead. She had friends who were zombies and vampires, had loved werewolves and sirens, but she tended to stay away from things like this unless she was saving someone. (She wondered if this qualified as saving someone. It would have hurt people if they hadn’t approached it, right? She didn’t like the idea of killing for killing’s sake.)

Closing her eyes for a moment, she nodded. Kaden was telling her that it was okay to hurt this thing, and if Kaden was saying it, Cass knew it had to be true. She trusted him as the authority on things like this. He wasn’t like Rhett, wasn’t like the hunter who had shot Alex or the ones that had targeted Metzli in the time she’d known them. Kaden was a good man, a trustworthy one. If he said it was okay to hurt this thing to stop it from hurting others, Cass knew it was the truth.

She twisted as the qutrub writhed in pain, gripping it tightly and letting the heat build beneath her rocky skin. The small eruption that occurred as magma seeped from between the cracks in the stone and onto the qutrub was quiet, but the creature’s cries weren’t. She couldn’t hold it for long before it was thrashing free of her grip and launching itself forward again.

Cass ducked behind Kaden instinctively, heart pounding. She wanted to make some quip that he’d groan at, wanted to say that she’d been bitten by werewolves before and wriggle her brows and pretend it didn’t hurt, but… she was afraid. As much as she hated to admit it, this thing scared her. And, without thinking, she trusted Kaden to take care of that.

—

With her help, Kaden had time to reload the crossbow and time to aim. He had the time to exhale, line up the shot, to focus, to lean into his training. 

In the chaos of the action, he was able to make the space to slow down the seconds and milliseconds, to stretch them further and rely on a combination of muscle memory, decades of experience, and a touch of instinct.

The crossbow was raised. Trigger pulled. Arrow loosed. Head pierced. Blood splattered. Cries silenced. Body collapsed.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins didn’t allow Kaden to feel the wash of relief or sense of accomplishment from a hunt completed just yet. He stood his ground, hand reaching for a knife as his eyes remained laser focused on the twitching corpse on the forest floor. He had to be sure it was dead, that the danger had passed. He couldn’t relax until that moment. 

He spun to face Cass, looking her over as if he could identify any injuries on her rocky skin. “Are you alright? Did it hurt you? Are you okay? Did it bite you?” The questions came one after the other in rapid fire — as if he asked every possible version, one of them would be the right one. His hands hovered over her shoulders, hesitating only because of the swirls of magma churning in the veins cracking her skin. Was it safe for him to touch? Would it burn? Hell, more importantly, was she okay with contact at all? Kaden didn’t know but it didn’t matter so long as she was alright.

From what he could tell, she was okay overall but he could hear her heart pounding like it was up against his eardrum. He wanted to provide comfort, but some part of him knew that she didn’t want to appear afraid, like she was still the brave hero. “You did great,” he assured her. And he meant it. She had come in clutch, gave him the time to line up the shot and make the killing blow. 

—

It all happened so quickly. You wouldn’t think it would. Death was such a heavy thing, even when it was happening to some mindless creature; part of Cass felt like it should carry more weight than this, that it should take longer. But it happened so quickly, and she took another step away from the dead qutrub as if that meant anything.

Kaden turned to face her, and she tore her eyes away from the corpse with a small smile. He was worried; it made her feel a little warm, made it harder to feel bad for the dead qutrub. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but she didn’t feel like looking too deeply into it, so she only nodded. “I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’m not hurt, it didn’t bite me. Everything’s good.” Later, she thought, she’d recount this tale to Makaio in the cave, would see what he knew about creatures like this one. Maybe Cass could teach him something for a change; maybe that would make things feel a little less uneven. 

Her smile only widened when Kaden told her she’d done great, preening a little under the praise. “You did the hard part,” she replied, feigning humility. She had done pretty well, hadn’t she? Kaden might have been eaten if not for her. She’d tell Makaio all about that, too. Having two people proud of her… It sounded exhilarating. “What, um… What now?”

—

Kaden’s lungs emptied when it was clear that she was alright. “Good, that’s good.” This is why he preferred hunting alone — it was too much stress having to worry about someone else’s well being on top of keeping himself alive. He probably got another gray hair or two after this encounter. Even then, he couldn’t help but match her smile. “Well not all of us can spew magma at things.” Alright, maybe it wasn’t the worst having someone else on a hunt to appreciate the hard work, especially when they were helpful. 

The ranger took a step towards the corpse to get a better look at the state of it. No movement, no breathing, and he couldn’t sense it anymore. There was no doubt that it was dead. Still wasn’t something he wanted to risk leaving there with nothing but a crossbow bolt in its skull. “Now I set this corpse on fire and then we get you back home.” He turned to look at her, making sure that she was still okay. “Well, I guess it might be faster for you to burn the body. If, uh, if you’re okay with that.” 

He couldn’t be sure how much she’d really experienced violence or death before, if she knew what burning flesh smelled like, if she was prepared to see muscle turn to ash. Part of him wanted to keep her from that. “On second thought, maybe I’ll come back and take care of it later.” There was no way she’d escaped all the horrors that this town served up on a silver platter, but she didn’t have to face this one. He could spare her this one. “I think, instead, we can swing by The Creamatorum on the way back. Wouldn’t want to waste time here just in case it closes before we get there. You know. If you want.” 

—

Kaden smiled, and it was a rare sight. He was always a little grumpy, always a little sad. The smile made Cass feel like she’d accomplished something, like she’d won some great prize, and her own grin widened a little in response. Things had been rough for… most of her life, actually. But it felt like they were turning around now, like everything was coming up in her favor. She had friends like Kaden, she had a father who wanted to be a part of her life. What more could she possibly ask for? She bit back a laugh as Kaden commented that not everyone could do what she did, shaking her head. “Skill issue,” she replied flatly, then brightened it with a grin.

Kaden moved towards the corpse, and Cass followed curiously. It was still a little sad, seeing it there, but now that it was still it looked less and less like a werewolf. It was clear that this was a less sentient thing, even in death. She nudged it with her foot, tensing until it didn’t move. Glancing back to Kaden, she nodded. “I can burn it,” she agreed, a little hesitant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be responsible for that, even if she’d do it for Kaden. 

But… then he was backtracking, and she couldn’t deny the rush of relief that came with it. It didn’t look as much like a werewolf as she’d first thought it might, but there was still something a little scary and a little sad about the idea of burning a corpse that had initially reminded her a little too much of someone she loved. The offered alternative of the Creamatorum put that excited grin back on her face, and she nodded quickly. “That actually sounds kind of perfect,” she said.

[aerodynamicentity]

I have a few songs that think belong to Merlin characters/duos/ships/friendships

For example:

This reminds me of Merlin & Arthur, one is not ready to open up (Arthur) and the other is softer and "needs to have a stronger shell to survive" (lyrics from the song) & will wait for the other to open up on their own accord (Merlin)

This one reminds me of 3 characters:

Ygraine/Igraine

I imagine her acting like a fusion of Morgana and Merlin with a bit of Arthur. Strong, stands up for servants, sassy, energetic and sometimes reckless.

Merlin

As I said that Ygraine/Igraine reminds me of Merlin (at least when she was young). I feel like this also applies for kid!Merlin, we saw that he was rash and confident at the start (of course he is confident and can be some times rash in s4/s5, but we see that he is less confident then at the start and thinks about what he will do next, so that no one gets hurt). I feel like kid!Merlin was energetic, loud and loved exploring.

Arthur

This is again more about kid!Arthur. I see kid!Arthur as being more friendly, outwardly kind and lovingthe outdoors and horse riding. This can also fit canon era Arthur, but just a little (at least for me).

This is Morgana and Arthur. You can't tell me otherwise

At the end ir could be Ygraine/Igraine or Morgana

This screams Merlin.

The line "running is a victory" is most definitely something he believes.

A bit like how I see Modern!Merlin. I see him as being numb to everything. Not caring as much as he used to.

This one is a obvious one. Gwaine (soldier), Merlin (poet), Arthur (king). But I also have a scenario of the dads of Gwaine, Merlin & Arthur meeting the same way they did. Gwaine's dad being the soldier, Balinor is poet and Uther is (no shit) king.

(you can skip this, this is just the scenario that I think of when this song plays!!!

Uther goes on his "special" quest (like Arthur did, y'know the one where he had to sit in the grand hall,) and Uthers dad sends Balinor to keep him safe. Uther is pissed off when he finds out, Balinor just makes fun of him and after a while they meet Gwaine's dad in a bar fight. They (uther and balinor) need more help (though only balinor will say it) and Gwaine's dad goes with them. After they completed the quest they go their separate ways.)

Just the same thing as "Run Boy Run"

I don't think I need to say anything more. Arthur Pendragon in the modern era.

This reminds me of the druids before the purge. Happy, carefree. But I also think it fits with the canon era druids

Again its a no brainer if you've listed to it. This is the Merthur anthem

(thank you for reading my ramblings about a series that has me in a chokehold)

[tales-of-osinia]

Jin!!! What does love means or looks like to each ro?

Oh, I got a bit carried away with this one lol

So enjoy some extra tidbits/a bit more background on the ROs below the cut because i'm tagging this and i don't want to be an asshole lmao

Al comes from a political family, so they’ve spent all their life being extremely mindful of how they act, and carefully measuring their words (what is said/to whom it is said) to present a certain image to others. They’re also really used to being around disingenuous people, with their insincere pleasantries and all-around bullshitting.

So to Al, love is being able to take off that mask in front of someone, and to have that person also showing their true self to them. It’s being able to skip the small talk and niceties to enjoy deep conversations, or to just bask in peaceful silence. It’s getting their hand touched, a hand on their shoulder, or a touch on their back that doesn’t feel cold and rehearsed. Al seeks genuine warmth, and needs a partner who will embrace them beyond their façade.

In terms of love languages, Al’s love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation.

Castis/Catalina currently lives in solitude, but that wasn’t always the case – until some years ago, they used to travel around with their clan. Because of that, they know two different kinds of loneliness: the feeling of loneliness from living in seclusion, and loneliness from not fitting in with those around you. They have learned more people doesn’t necessarily = more company. They don’t need a lot, they just need *their person*.

To them, love is learning all the small things about someone that are often unspoken/go unnoticed - the kind of stuff that you learn from spending time around someone, and from paying close attention. It’s getting to know someone so well, you know what they are feeling and/or thinking with just a look, and learning to anticipate their needs. They really crave deep companionship and intimacy.

In terms of love languages, C’s love languages are acts of service and gifts.

Kaden grew up in a very supportive family. His curiosity was deeply encouraged, and his enthusiasm for learning was practically inherited from his parents – the three of them bonded over sharing pastimes and learning new things together. He spent his entire childhood watching his parents’ healthy, loving relationship - *that’s* what love is supposed to look like, in his mind.

To him, love is being able to have deep, insightful, vulnerable conversations with someone without fear of coming across as weird or corny. It’s sharing what you’re passionate about and what inspires you with someone, and receiving the same from them in return. It’s witnessing someone’s passion and vicariously experiencing their excitement about something (even when you don’t fully understand it), because the spark in their eyes just makes your heart sing. He knows what it’s like to receive unconditional acceptance, and to be deeply loved and appreciated – he has seen it between his parents, and he has received it as well. He misses that.

In terms of love languages, Kaden’s love languages are words of affirmation and quality time.

[shywhumpauthor]

Love your writing, I'm just very bad at prompts ✨ here I go: Going catatonic? Mouth sewn shut? Carewhump with Mathias (therapy for Kaden's hands maybe)?

Oh yessss carewhump!!

Masterlist

[after the failed escape attempt, before isolation]

Cw: creepy whumper, noncon intimacy (not sexual, but mathias is ick), mentioned past torture, abuse, noncon touching (once again, not sexual)

Mathias sighed, his lips pulling back into a frown as he watched the pencil tumble to the floor with a small clatter.

Kaden cringed in response, their hand curling into a shaking fist as they quickly retracted their hands. Back to their lap, where they were safe. Safe from the stupid pencil and from Mathias’s own hands resting against theirs, prompting each agonizing letter. The floorboards creaked as the man swooped down, snatching up the pencil between two fingers and setting it back on the desk.

“Come on now, love, you know what you have to do. Just a little bit more.” Mathias’s voice slipped through their mind as he leaned over their shoulder once more, his chest pressing against their back. His mouth rested next to their ear, breath warming the side of their face as his hand rested against their arm, sliding down to their hand. The thick bandages had been replaced with thin layers of gauze, but the wounds still ached deeply with each movement. Rough scabs had healed to ragged pink scars, for the most part healed, but still painful. Kaden tensed under the touch, feeling their hands grow clammy as Mathias’s thumb brushed over the bandaging.

His hands were warm, but they might as well have been burning red as he pressed his fingers lightly into the wounds.

“That’s the third time you’ve dropped it,” He murmured, his other hand moving to their shoulder, before sliding down to rest just against their elbow. “You can do better than that, love. Perhaps I haven’t given you the right… motivation.” His nails began to dig into their skin and Kaden stiffened, a small sound dying against their tongue as they clenched their jaw.

“I’ll give you one more chance, darling, alright?” Mathias hummed, his grip loosening just as quickly as it had tightened, touch becoming ever so gentle as he picked up their right hand, guiding it to pick up the pencil. “Five more lines, then we can take a small break.”

Five more.

Kaden looked down at the paper in front of them, half covered in a messy scrawl. They had tried to stay along the lines, but with the motor function of a three year old, they could barely hold the pencil, much less write. Mathias didn’t seem to be caring much for quality, though, which they were grateful for. They had already written the same sentence fifteen times over on this sheet, thirty times the one before. To help them get better, Mathias said when he challenged them to the task. To help them heal, so they weren’t useless. The task had felt mundane at first, but now it was excruciating. Every letter sent sharp pains through their palm, little bolts of electricity down their fingers and up their arm, causing the muscles to contract and spasm.

With a deep breath, working up the will, Kaden shifted their hand away from his, and readjusted their grip on the pencil. Mathias smirked, but stayed quiet, resting his hand against the desk itself, still practically leaning over them.

Kaden wanted to snap at him to back up, that he was their main hindrance right now, only making this more difficult for them, but they were sure he already knew that. That’s why he was doing it, right?

With his breath creeping down the side of their neck, Kaden slowly began to write.

I will not run.

The page before had been “I will behave.”

The one yesterday was “I will not act out.”

Seemed kind of redundant, they thought. Didn’t “not acting out” fall under “behaving”? Kaden wasn’t stupid enough to voice the obvious flaw in the man’s orders, though. They would very much like to keep the remaining function in their hands.

This particular punishment seemed never ending. The branding, the torture, all of that after the first few days seemed acceptable. Well- not acceptable but—expected? Physical pain for misbehaving, or whatever Mathias wanted to call it. Defiance, stupidity, he had many names for their actions prior. This seemed stupid, though. Writing over and over rules, commandments he made them swear to never break. The same thing over and over, until they could no longer move their fingers.

I will not run.

Their hand was shaking worse with each letter. There was once a time where they wished they were ambidextrous, so they would be able to take most of the stress off the single hand, but their left hand seemed so much worse. They were barely able to twitch the fingers, though they didn’t like to think much about it, they prayed the damage was temporary.

I will not run.

God, how many more? Their eyes stung with exhaustion and pained tears, the words drifting free of the college bound rule. The stopped caring about neatness. If Mathias didn’t care, they didn’t. The letters grew to overlap old lines, falling into a deep slant, but Kaden wasn’t really looking at the paper. They blinked hard, not willing to let this man see them cry. Not over something as stupid and simple as writing lines.

I will not run.

Their letters now were barely comprehensible, indistinguishable from the next. They weren’t sure they were even writing the right ones any more, they just wanted to get it over with. One more. One more line, and a break. Mathias had said so, and Kaden liked to think he wouldn’t break his word. He was a liar, but for now they would pretend as if he could only tell the truth. They knew that if they even thought there could be more, they wouldn’t be able to finish. They would drop the pencil and accept whatever consequences, because at least then they’d have a new pain to distract themself from their burning hand.

Four more words.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One-

Kaden let out a shallow breath, squeezing their eyes shut for a moment as they tried to bring the tears back to bay. They were okay, it was over for now. It was over for now and they were okay. They did what he asked, what he demanded, and they were okay. He hadn’t stopped them. They set the pencil down, exhaling a shaky breath as they slowly flexed their fingers.

“Good job, sweetheart,” the man whispered in their ear, sending a disgusted chill creeping down Kaden’s spine. They could feel his lips, just barely brushing against their skin, so close and so.. wrong. Their hands burned, and they wanted nothing more than to shove him away, to push to their feet and yell for him to fuck off, but they were smarter than that. Instead, they stayed dead still, barely daring to breathe as he trailed his hand down from their elbow to their palm.

His hands were against theirs, holding them, working away at the inflamed nerves with gentle, smooth circles. Kaden winced, and his touch became lighter, so soft and caring and wrong. His touch was sickening, his voice dripping with a sweet, condescending tone as he pressed even closer to them. Kaden felt trapped, trapped within the cage his arms and chest formed around them, within their own body. They squirmed, a low whine building in the back of their throat that they suppressed before any noise could release. He just shushed them, shaking his head in a quiet warning.

“Calm down, darling,” Mathias murmured, the strong scent of his cologne flooding Kaden’s senses as he carefully worked away at the pained muscles, from their aching wrist to the center of their palm, to each finger, easing away the tension until the pain faded from a sharp ache to dull throbbing.

Kaden hated how they began to settle into the touch after a few moments. The breath that had been building in their chest released, and their posture relaxed, which made Mathias smirk softly.

“You see, love, things can be so nice when you just do what your told..”

——————————

I’m craving violence and defiance today hm

Tag list: @whumpasaurus101 @t0rture-me @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpycries @pigeonwhumps @d-cs @whump-me-all-night-long @morning-star-whump @aethernorwood

[chasseurdeloup]

2 Hunters, 1 Prey || Leticia and Kaden

TIMING: Before The Sound of Silence LOCATION: A tunnel near the outskirts of town PARTIES: @rhythmicmeow and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Leticia goes after a young employee of her shop that she thinks might be in trouble. Kaden gets a call to animal control about a weird bear in the tunnels and goes to investigate just as Leticia arrives. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Myra. The name kept repeating in Leticia’s head. She was a regular employee at the Vinyl Countdown. A good kid. But with stupid, risky ideas of what a fun night looked like. And this was the only strange location that she could remember Myra talking about. A haunted tunnel on the outskirts of town that led into, what Leticia assumed, was the sewer system. Weird things happen there, Myra had said. By the dense shadows at the entrance, Leticia had a feeling what kind of beast Myra might have tangled with. 

Giving the balam spirit more room to breathe within her body, Leticia listened for the creature inside, but mostly, for Myra, hoping to hear any lifesign of the young woman. Instead, she heard footsteps. Her head snapped in the direction of the footsteps, away from the tunnel, and towards an approaching man in the darkness. Fuck. “Hey friend,” she said, in an overtly friendly tone. “I wouldn’t recommend coming down here, I work with the Park Rangers and there’s a bear down here. WIth one of her cubs. I’m watching her to make sure when she wakes up and starts moving, she heads back to the woods where she belongs and doesn’t get confused. So, why don’t you head back home?” 

It was 50/50 if the call about a bear in the tunnel on the outskirts of town was about a real bear or some sort of monster. It was just as likely it was a grizzly in there as it was that it had been a bugbear trying to scare the shit out of people. Either way, Kaden was more than suited for the job. He headed out with the usual arsenal: crossbow, rifle, pistol with tranquilizers, and a number of knives. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he was hoping to run into. A normal bear would be dangerous, but he’d know what to do. A bakubear would be fine, as well. But a bugbear? Putin, he wasn’t sure what the fuck the plan was going to be if he ran into one of those. In the past, the answer had been simple. Was it supernatural? If yes, kill it. But now, the thought of just shooting a shifter and not asking any questions felt–

Didn’t matter, he’d cross that bridge when he got there– if he even got there tonight. Putain de merde, he really shouldn’t be out working or hunting without any goddamn codes yet. In the field, there wasn’t time to question a decision, there was only time to act, and it was a hell of a lot easier to act when you knew the rules of the game. So far his only rules were that he shouldn’t default to his family’s rules.

As he approached the area where the entrance to the tunnel opened up, a shiver shot down his spine. Fuck. His stomach dropped. He was going to have to make some kind of decision tonight if he kept going. There was a shifter in the area. Probably not a werewolf, the signals weren’t strong enough. He could turn around, just leave, make this a problem for later or for someone else. It might be better if–

A voice called out and Kaden stopped in his tracks. “That so?” he replied, taking a few more cautious steps towards the sound. The hairs on his arm stood on edge as he closed the distance between them. It could mean a number of things — he wasn’t going to read into it just yet. “Good thing I’m animal control and came to handle the situation. Why don’t you go on home, then?”

She had been prepared for a question or two about the bear — some information to sate their curiosity before they would eventually make the trip back to town, but she had not prepared herself to be dealing with anyone from animal control. It would seem that, once again, Leticia was the punchline to a joke the universe was telling. Hopefully, someone was getting a laugh about her misfortune. 

Dusting off her pants, Leticia stood up and crossed her arms, facing the man fully now. Maybe, like a traditional bear, Leticia could stand a little taller and intimidate him into leaving. “Animal control? You’re a little late to the scene, buddy. Besides, I was here first and the situation is already under control.” There was a silver of concern for him as well as Myra. For all the assumptions she had made about the beast inside the tunnels, Leticia couldn’t be sure until she saw the thing with her own eyes. And letting another human into the tunnels with it? 

She didn’t want to be responsible for his safety, too. 

Taking a moment to look at him more fully, her heart dropped. A new twist and worry formed in the pit of her stomach and pulled her out of the delusion she had allowed herself to fall into. He was too well equipped to just work for animal control. Paranoia pulled at the corners of her mind. She couldn’t turn her back on him. It was too big of a risk. 

Feigning disinterest, Leticia shrugged her shoulders and then glanced towards the tunnel opening. “Well, since you’re already here, you might as well make yourself useful. How much tranquilizer do you have on you?” Arms crossed and head tipped just slightly, Leticia sighed, this was going to be a mess. “This better not be your first day.” 

Kaden’s brows knit together in confusion. “Late? What are you–” Ah, she thought she was going to handle this. He rolled his eyes and began to walk past her. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’ve got it covered. Since you shouldn’t be here at all let alone first.”

He’d hoped she’d take the hint and turn around and go. Home. 

She did not.

Kaden sighed as she planted her feet firmly, arms crossed. Bordel de merde, he didn’t want to have to make sure she didn’t get herself hurt. Or killed. It was hard enough to make sure he didn’t get killed when it was just him. 

“Right, I’m not the one who has to make themselves useful,” he said as he pulled the rifle off his back, making sure it was loaded. Kaden tried not to raise his brow too much at her mention of tranquilizers. Sure, he had those, but that wasn’t what he was loading into the gun just then. “Plenty,” he answered flatly. Rifle looked good and Kaden was ready to head into the tunnel, so he started walking. 

He wondered if maybe he should take out a flashlight or something just for show. Sure, he could see just fine in the dark, but she didn’t need to know that. Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure if he had one. Didn’t normally have company on hunts. He huffed out a laugh at her last comment. First day? “Far from it.” He may have only been an animal control officer for a few months, but he’d been a hunter his whole damn life.  

“You’d better be a fast runner,” he said as they started down the tunnel. “Because the first sign of trouble, that’s what you should do, got it?” It was the least he could hope for now that she followed him into the potential monster’s lair. 

It was a fire that she had started with her words, an insult for an insult, a prod for a prod — but still, Leticia looked like he had overstepped when he said that she would be the one that would have to prove their worth here. “I think a prompt arrival already proves that at least one of us has some sense of urgency.” No matter how annoyed she was, she didn’t say what she did loudly. It was a grumbling under her breath. 

He stepped into the tunnel and Leticia was right on his heels, pretending not to notice that he didn’t have a light in his hand and wondering how long he’d pretend not to notice that she wasn’t tripping in the dark either. “You want me to run?” She said, louder this time. It was demanding but kind, in a strange way. 

Leticia chewed the inside of her lip, listening to the sounds echoing around the tunnels as they walked. “Wait,” she whispered, stopping a few feet behind him. “Head towards the left.” There was an unnatural pause before she followed the man again. “Listen—“ the word came out harsher than she intended, and mentally, she cursed herself, but pressed on. He was already in the tunnel with her and the deeper in the tunnels they got, the less she cared about what he knew about her. Myra was more important. 

“There’s a girl named Myra and last I heard from her she was talking about some spooky tunnels at the edge of town. She didn’t come home last night. Her parents called this morning to see if she showed up for her shift.” Leticia wished she could say that she knew Myra was down there and that she was alive, but she couldn’t. “I can run, but not without her.” 

Kaden snuck a sideways glance at the woman who was right on his heels. He already knew to go left, there were faint sounds that way somewhere off in the distance. The real question was how did she know that? He could still feel the alert prickling at his skin, but it hadn’t changed since he’d gotten to the entrance to the tunnel. It had remained steady, constant. And that certainly brought even more questions. None that he was going to question even in his mind let alone outloud. Not yet. 

Her next words stopped him in his tracks, his head snapping to look at her. “There’s a kid down here?” Putain. He rubbed his hands down his face. Well that fucking complicated things. And also increased the urgency ten-fold. “No time to waste, then,” he said and continued deeper into the tunnel. He was careful to keep his steps light, trying not to sacrifice speed as best he could. 

The hunter listened for any more signs of life up ahead. There wasn’t much, but there were small scuffs and scratches he could hear. Kaden tried to plan what to do whenever they did find the creature in question. He had his rifle in hand, but if there was a potential human down there, too, he wondered if that was the best weapon to start with. A missed shot could be fatal. 

A roar rang through the tunnel. “Shit.” Kaden couldn’t stop himself from running towards the source. Plans would have to be improvised. 

He snapped, and for good reason. Leticia bit the inside of her lip and looked him in the eyes, wondering if he could see the concern in her features, or if the movement was just for show. He had been moving flawlessly through the tunnels, stepping lightly and moving quickly — with such care in the dark that it was impossible to convince herself that he was either like her… or he was after people like her. 

“Myra,” Leticia repeated. “Her name is Myra.” Clinging to the present tense as if it would change anything that might have already happened. This was no place for a young woman to get lost, and certainly not one who was simply human, but until there was evidence otherwise, she’d keep holding onto Myra as if she were still there. “I don’t know what’s down here.” The only other truly honest thing she had shared with her new companion. “But… tranquilizers.” The silent please hung in the air. Would it have mattered if she had said it? Should he have begged for him to change the weapon he was holding? 

He might have been uninterested in her for the time being, but he cared that there was a child down here. Leticia figured betting on his humanity might be safe. 

But the roar meant all bets were off. He ran and Leticia was close behind, hands clenched into fists as fear and anxiety mixed to create a toxic cocktail, threatening to overwhelm her. The tunnel opened into a small canal, Myra was slumped on the ground by a barred gate that prevented anyone from getting too far into the underground of the city. 

The beast that they had heard was an unnatural looking bear, one that Leticia couldn’t name… but she was confident she could take. “You’re going to hate this idea,” she whispered to him, a huff of a laugh hidden in her words. “I can take this thing.” She looked at him, only long enough to make sure he wasn’t about to risk it all with a shot. “How fast can you run? With her added weight?” 

Kaden slowed once Myra and the monster were in sight. It was bear-shaped, alright.  Squinting, he took a closer look, trying to discern what it really was he was about to face. It was hard to say, could be a bugbear or a regular grizzly. 

A rumble of bau, bau, bau came from the canal in front of them. 

That answered that question. Baukbear. Should be easy enough to take down. Kaden was ready to line up a shot, with the rifle that wasn’t loaded with tranquilizers, despite her request. The hunter was about to steady the gun, hands hovering over the trigger, when she spoke. An idea?  “Mmhmm,” he mumbled, lowering the barrel ever slightly to look over at her from the corner of his eye. He was interested. It wasn’t like he had a plan beyond run in and fight the monster. He hoped that would be enough but he was open to other options.

“What?” He almost forgot to keep his voice lowered as he turned to face her, dropping his line of sight on the beast.  Well, he thought he was open to other options. At least not that option. “You can take this thing? With what?! A song and dance? What are you going to do barehanded against a bauk–” 

Kaden nearly missed the shiver down his spine, the one that had almost doubled since they got closer to the monster. His hunter senses felt like he was surrounded. Which meant…

His mouth pulled into a thin, tight line and his eyes bore into the shifter standing next to him, searching for a reason to trust her. Every little hair on his arm that was standing on edge was telling him not to, that he should make sure to take care of her just as much as that bakubear across the way. He could practically hear his sister’s voice hissing in his ear, telling him to do the right thing.

His eyes darted to the slumped body of the girl on the ground with the monster. Saving her. That was the right thing, no questions asked. The rest, well, he could debate the rest but Myra was what was important above all else. 

He had to trust that they shared the same goal, and that she had the better perspective on things. And if he was wrong, he’d make it right later. 

“Faster than most,” he finally answered, lowering his weapon and flipping the safety back on. He wondered if she knew what he was, if she suspected. Didn’t matter. “You sure about this?” 

The gun in his hands caused Leticia to internally panic. She should have been worried about the notbear inside the tunnel with them, or even more concerned about the fact that he seemed too well adjusted to the darkness to be normal, but instead, she was looking at that gun and thinking about Myra. All it would take was one wrong move. 

Whatever suspicions she had been willfully ignoring were confirmed with one slip. Bauk— the start of what she assumed was the creature’s name. A small slip, but Leticia didn’t miss it. How many people came well equipped into the tunnels of a seemingly small town more than prepared to face off against something supernatural in nature? Suddenly the strange bear wasn’t the most dangerous thing in these tunnels. No, that honor went to the man standing next to her. Looking her in the eyes. 

There was a long, silent moment, where Leticia wondered if she had earned herself a bullet. What would be more important to him? She wanted to believe that Myra was the obvious answer, the only right answer would be to save her. But Leticia had never tangled with a hunter directly. She couldn’t pretend to know what went on in their minds or how they made such decisions. Maybe she was the greater threat to them, being able to blend in with humans so easily. 

But he had the benefit of seeing her face. If he wanted to, he’d find her after this. Leticia’s heart was pounding in her chest. The choice to her was simple. But in the darkness of the tunnel she was drafting a letter to her mother in her head. That way she wouldn’t wonder about what happened like Leticia did daily with her absence. 

He flipped the safety back on his gun and Leticia took in a sharp breath. “You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” It wasn’t a question that needed answering. It didn’t matter what he said, the fear had already rooted itself in her stomach. And she had already made her choice about revealing herself so that the three of them would make it out of here alive. Whatever his answer was, she was ready to reveal her hand. 

“I can’t carry her and run, so that just leaves you.” Leticia nodded her head, finally answering the actual question he posed. “I’m sure.” She moved closer to where the tunnel connected to the other room, her hand braced on the wall while she watched the strange bear’s movements. Rotating her shoulders back, Leticia took a deep breath, preparing herself. She had done this before, she could do it again. Focus on the bear. Myra’s scent is familiar, she’ll be safe. 

Propelling herself out of the passage, Leticia threw herself at the bear the moment it put the slightest bit of distance between itself and Myra. Her elongated nails dug into the skin of the bear, only for her to be swatted with uncanny strength. It wasn’t her that hit the floor though, it was the jaguar. Landing on her feet, the beast roared to life as the bear stumbled. 

The question caught him off guard, though it shouldn’t. It was easy for Kaden to forget about the other side of the coin, that shifters could recognize a hunter the same way a hunter could identify a shifter. For a moment, he worried that the ire might turn on him, that it might have been an even bigger mistake to put his gun away than he initially thought. But like a lot of what he was conditioned to believe, his first thought was wrong. She wasn’t about to turn on him the same way he didn’t plan to turn on her – there was something far more important to focus on. The girl.

It still felt wrong to be the one running in and then back out with the girl. He was a hunter, he should be fighting the monster. Instead, he was letting a monster run in to fight the monster while he just ran away. It was against everything he was ever taught. But he couldn’t doubt it now. She was already launching herself into the fight. 

Merde. Okay. He dashed in behind her, trying to stay low and hidden. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, not now. His hand still hovered over the hilt of his knife, just in case. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to be needed in the fight. He couldn’t trust that a shifter had this covered, that the hunter wasn’t the best choice. When he saw her body thrown back by the baukbear, he feared that his instincts were right. He grabbed his knife and almost yanked it out of its hilt, but then she bounced back. More than that. She transformed into a jaguar.

A balam. Kaden was familiar with the species, but he had never encountered one. He was stuck for a moment, watching her, wanting to spectate the fight. Putain. He shook himself out of it and darted towards Myra. He had to ignore whatever was happening with the two beasts brawling, he had to focus on the girl. “Hey,” he whispered. He was unsure if she could hear him or if she was out cold, but he’d rather err on the side of caution. “I’m going to get you out of here, alright.” He was relieved he could hear her breathing even though her breaths were shallow. Her eyes flitted a little in response. She was still there. For now. If they didn’t get the hell out of there, they wouldn’t be for long. 

Kaden was tempted to glance over his shoulder and check in on what was happening behind him. No. It didn’t matter. Myra mattered. He scooped up the girl and slid her onto his back in a fireman carry. Time to get the fuck out of here. He pushed himself up and sprinted out towards the tunnels. He had to hope that the balam was alright, that she was as capable as she said. 

Leticia had every reason to stop and reconsider showing this man what she was and pretend to be human a little while longer. But every time she avoided it, it felt like another lie was being told against her will. A secret that she had to keep, boarding on the line of something to be ashamed of. But what was the point of hiding if it cost people their lives? How could they claim to be protectors if they simply hid in the shadows? What good was she if she couldn’t protect those around her?  

While the man lifted Myra’s limp body from the ground, the jaguar was matching the baukbear, step for step. Circling each other in the water as the two humans fled the area. The beast, despite the injury her human counterpart had sustained, moved with grace despite the pain. A low growl came from the jaguar, a steady warning that sounded like a purr at first before erupting into a full roar. The baukbear replied in turn, the bau bau bau echoing off the walls and throughout the tunnels. 

A moment later, the beasts clashed once more. This time, instead of taking the attack straight on, the jaguar leapt above the head of the baukbear, running down his back and then digging her claws into him as she descended. The claws cutting deep enough to draw blood, which ran down the animal’s fur and dripped onto the tainted ground below. In the blink of an eye, the baukbear had vanished into the darkness. The surrounding shadows seemingly darker than they had been. The jaguar stayed alert, letting out a long growl as she paced the room. Her eyes stayed on the beast despite the darkness, almost curious if the other monster knew what she could see.  

The beast reared up for another round with the jaguar, but as he charged toward her, she jumped to the side this time, allowing him a clear shot into the wall that gave way to the massive force. The wreckage revealed another tunnel on the other side of the wall that the baukbear stumbled in, trying to regain his footing. And as he did, the jaguar approached, the low growl starting up again, warning the other creature away from starting up again. The bear rose to his hind legs and let out the call once more, but the jaguar put a paw forward and roared, forcing the bear into silence.  

Dropping to his four paws, the baukbear looked at the jaguar, sounding off again, and the jaguar responded in turn. As if they could be understood. As time passed, the baukbear faded into the shadows and deeper into the tunnels. The jaguar waited, sniffing the air and tracking the scent until it was faint. The tunnels were still not safe, but for the time being, the humans could have this space back. Wandering back towards the tunnel they had entered from, the jaguar sat down and huffed loudly before letting its body completely touch the ground. Her turn, as brief as it was, was over. 

Leticia leaned against the wall, her hand instinctively gripping the right side of her body where the bear had initially made contact. Glancing around the room she had lost herself in, she noticed a new passage that had been opened through a broken wall and no body in sight. She hadn’t killed it, despite the blood on her hands that was now staining her shirt and the walls where she propped herself up. Hobbling toward the entrance of the tunnels, she was unsure of how much time had passed and could only hope that she hadn’t been left behind.  

At the mouth of the tunnel, Leticia caught a glimpse of them before she squeezed her eyes shut. “How is she?” The worry in her tone was cut out by pain now. “I couldn’t kill it. It’s further in now. Broke through the wall into another tunnel.” An ending that the balam had been satisfied with, but not Leticia. And she hoped not the hunter either. It was too close to humans and other unexpecting prey.  

As Kaden heard the snarls and growls from further within the tunnels, his instinct was to turn and run back. He had to trust that she had this under control. He hoped like hell she was winning the fight but he’d have to learn that the hard way. 

At the entrance to the tunnel, Kaden had to decide if he was going to go on with the girl, try to take her farther away to safety, or wait there for the balam to come back. Well, hope that it was the balam returning and not the baukbear escaping the tunnels. He should leave. Shouldn’t he? Putain. The stupid fucking part of him needed to know that she was going to get out of the tunnels, too.

Against his better judgment, he found a nearby tree and placed Myra down gently, leaning her up against the trunk. She still hadn’t come to, yet, but she was breathing steadily. Looking over at her, he didn’t see any injuries. It had been a minute or two. Maybe he should go back in and check on the balam.

Right as he reached for his weapons, ready to charge back into the underground when he saw her stumbling out of it, hand on her side. He put his weapons back down and walked over to her, offering to help her over to the tree where Myra was. “Merde, it’s still alive?” He sighed, but there was nothing to do right now. Not while she was injured and the girl was still unconscious. “I’ll come back for it later. For now, we should get her taken care of,” he said, nodding towards Myra. There were also her own injuries but he’d let her acknowledge those first before saying anything. 

There was a disconnect between Leticia and the balam at any given moment, no matter how much she respected the spirit, no matter how much she trusted it to protect those she loved and cared for, Leticia was not privy to the thoughts she had. And that included why she chose to spare the strange bear they had just tangled with. The man sighed and Leticia, despite herself, looked away and toward the ground. She had never felt shame in a failure like this before. Sending a creature running had been enough before, but she would have been lying if she claimed to be satisfied with this ending.  

An apology hung on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill out despite herself. But Myra was leaning against a tree and she was breathing and that was enough for Leticia to swallow those thoughts and pretend to be someone else. Someone stronger.  “It’s wounded,” she informed him, looking at the blood on her hands that wasn’t her own.  

Leticia made the mistake of closing her eyes. Trying to sort her mind, the darkness that covered her vision invited a need for rest and her head fell forward slightly before she forced her eyes open again. The bruise that was undoubtedly forming on the side of her body and the exhaustion of whatever the balam had done was catching up quickly.  She wondered, silently, if she spent more time allowing the balam to exist in her own skin, if this wouldn’t impact her so much in the aftermath of a transformation.  

Forcing her eyes open and standing up straighter, Leticia forced herself forward. “Does she need a hospital?” She assumed the answer was no, but she wasn’t sure if the bear had any special abilities that she hadn’t seen firsthand. But she didn’t say any of that out loud, not wanting for the man to know she ran in head first without knowing a damn thing, running purely on instinct. She knelt by Myra and put the back of her hand to the girl’s cheek, checking her temperature as best she could and her breathing.  

Sucking in a breath, she stood back up turned toward the man. “You know, I went thirty years without meeting one of you assholes. And now I can’t seem to turn a corner without saying hello to one.” Leticia huffed a laugh, then shook her head. They had the same goals in mind, but that didn’t mean that would extend past this single night. “Should I be worried?”   

Kaden nodded when she mentioned the beast was wounded. “Should make it easier to track. And less of a threat in the meantime.” He’d rather the monster get away and have everyone get out safe than the alternative. The sentiment startled him a bit when he remembered that everyone in that scenario also included a monster. He wasn’t used to that just yet. His world had changed so much in the past few months that when he stopped to look at things as they were now, it was sometimes hard to reconcile. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head, “but I’m not a doctor. I didn’t see any injuries so we might have gotten there just in time.” It didn’t always work out that way. This girl was lucky. 

As she crouched to examine the girl, Kaden made sure all his weapons were back in place, that he was ready to head home. He shouldn’t have been surprised by her next question but for some reason he thought the words would be left unspoken for a little while longer. “Can’t say the same about balam. You’re the first I’ve run into here or otherwise.” He was stalling and he knew it. He didn’t want to kill her, he knew that much. Admitting that would make him an easy mark if it ever came down to it. At least, that was the fear that bubbled up from somewhere deeper in his mind, a part of his training that he hadn’t shaken off. “No, you don’t have to worry,” he said, the words quiet but sincere. “Unless there’s suddenly reports of a jaguar murdering people in town, I’m not going to come knocking.” He couldn’t speak for the other rangers in Wicked’s Rest, of course, the same way she couldn’t speak for every shifter, but he knew they both knew that much. 

Everything so far had been good news. Myra was safe and alive and the man who had helped was confirming minimal injuries. He wasn’t a doctor, but if there was anything deeper to worry about that the bear could have done to her that Leticia wouldn’t notice on the surface — he would have said something. “She lives with her parents on Worm Row. Might make more sense for Animal Control to drop her off than me.” She doubted the validity of his job now, but the cover story should be enough for them. 

She offered him a faint smile when he said she was the first balam he had ever met in person. Her mother would have been happy to hear it, and furious that it was Leticia that was the one who broke the track record. “Most of us tend to stay away from people.” And she was the idiot that decided the risk of being around people was worth it. 

His words echoed similar ones that Andy had spoken. And ones that Nora had texted her about Emilio. They all had their own different ways of saying it, but the underlying message was the same: they weren’t a threat to her until she became the monster she was believed to be by other hunters. She looked at him for a long, quiet moment. Almost telling him that if he heard attacks like that, that it wouldn’t be her — and if it was — it wasn’t something she chose. But that felt like a lot of preemptive begging. 

“Leticia,” she finally introduced. “If anything like that happens, you can find me downtown most days, I own a shop… the Vinyl Countdown.” She didn’t know if it was an attempt to humanize her to make it harder for him to make that call when it came down or if it was her trying to get ahead of him having to hunt her down like a rabid animal, but her gaze dropped after she spoke. Refocusing on Myra. “Let’s go ahead and get her home then.” 

Kaden nodded; it made sense to him to be the one to show up at Myra’s house with the girl. Even if he felt a bit like an impostor for being the one to bring her home safe and sound. It didn’t feel like he deserved the honor. It didn’t feel like he’d done enough or helped enough. Despite the fact that by all means this had turned out well, Kaden could feel the distinct feeling of failure seeping into him. It left stains that were hard to wash out and forget entirely. His family had done a lot to build them all on top of one another, dying and changing the whole color of who he thought he was to the point he’d forgotten who he was when he wasn’t a hunter – if he even knew in the first place. 

“Interesting.” He hadn’t spent a whole lot of time studying what the Langley family hunter journals said about balam given how often he’d encountered any. It never occurred to him that part of the reason they’d been listed as rare and hard to find might be because they were keeping themselves hidden rather than there being a population shortage. “Guess that makes you a trendsetter or something.” He had a feeling without knowing one damn thing about her family that they would approve of this team up about as much as his family would. And he wasn’t about to call himself the same. He wondered if she felt the same shame trickling inside her. 

“Kaden,” he said, returning the gesture of trust. “I am actually Animal Control, by the way.” He’d caught the twinge of doubt when she mentioned his profession. Couldn’t really blame her considering he didn’t look the part tonight (if ever). 

“It…” He sighed and placed his hands on his hips, trying to find the bravado to say what was on his mind. “It’s a good thing you were here.” His voice was quiet, unsure, and he wasn’t able to make eye contact with her for long. He did believe it; what he’d said. It was just hard to say out loud, to do the work to try and begin to remove the stains. Kaden crouched down to pick the girl up, this time cradling her instead of hoisting her on his shoulders. He didn’t need to sprint away with her anymore, he could take the time to be a little more gentle. Probably in more ways than one. “Let’s get her home,” he repeated.

[howdy-cowpoke]

TIMING: Same day as 'Pony Problems' LOCATION: A Latte to Love PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Kaden (@chasseurdeloup) SUMMARY: So. Much. Gay. Panicking. CONTENT WARNINGS: THEY'RE FUCKING IDIOTS YOUR HONOR.

Now looking a lot less like he’d spent most of his day bathing and brushing an unkempt horse, Monty now sat alone in the coffee shop he and Kaden had agreed to meet at earlier that day. Well, not alone—there were other customers, though no one had asked to take the chair that sat across from him which he was thankful for. The sweater he was wearing looked a bit too much for the weather, but it was kind of chilly in here, and he ran cold, anyway. Deathly cold. 

With one sleeve pulled over his hand and pressed against the lower half of his face, he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone that sat on the table until a now-familiar, accented voice pulled him from his trance. Blinking and glancing up slowly, the deer-in-headlights expression made way for a more relaxed smile, and the zombie dropped his hand. “Hey,” he breathed, getting to his feet to face Kaden. 

Oh no. Was he supposed to… shake hands again? Hug? None of the above? An awkward panic gripped him and he let out a breathy chuckle, dark gaze darting toward the counter. “I didn’t order yet! Thought I’d… wait.”

—

At a certain point, Kaden was going to have to accept that his hair was fine and stop messing with it. Still, he wanted it to look good, not just okay. Putain, he was being stupid. It didn’t matter. He should just get in the fucking car and drive to the damn coffee shop already. He was pretty sure he was running late, anyway. Sure, Monty had said no rush but all the fucking same he didn’t want to keep him waiting. 

As he gripped the door handle to the coffee shop, anxiety gripped Kaden’s thoughts. What if he hadn’t shown up? What if he’d taken too long and he’d left? What if he’d read the situation entirely wrong and Monty was just being polite before? 

Putain de merde, he was being fucking stupid and swung the damn door open already. He scanned the tables to see if Monty was already there or if– His breath caught in his chest for a second when he spotted him across the way. There were at least several doubts assuaged; he’d shown up and he hadn’t left. Two very good signs. “Hi,” he said as he reached the table. “Mind if I sit here?” His tone was playful, confident, but as soon as Monty’s gaze met his, Kaden could feel his stomach flip again and he was pretty sure that easy confidence was going to be hard to hold onto.

Merde, what now? They were both standing, unsure of what sort of greeting was appropriate. Back home, it would be easy enough – la bise, but that sure as hell wasn’t the answer here and now. It just wasn’t a thing in the states. Instead of making the wrong move, he opted for pushing the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.  

Even with the clumsy and awkward intro, a smile found its way onto Kaden’s face quickly enough. “I’ve got it.” Going to the counter and placing the order would maybe give him enough time to figure out how to stop looking like an idiot. Had to be. “What do you want?” 

—

Thankful that Kaden decided to do something with his hands and spare Monty the uncertainty of touch, the zombie was even more relieved when the man asked for his order. Not for any reason other than it would allow him a few more seconds to sit back down alone and gather his bearings.

He honestly could not remember the last time he’d just… gone out like this. Gone out with the intention of meeting someone. Hell, even just going for his own coffee and time was a rarity—if he had it at the farm, why bother leaving? Jeez. Maybe all that confidence he’d suddenly found today was a fluke, and this wasn’t going to be any easier than it ever was. 

“Just the drip, whatever they’ve got. Black.” He paused. “Thanks.” After Kaden had turned to make his way up to the register, Monty collapsed back into his seat, admonishing himself for acting like a fool. You’ve killed and robbed people. Why is this so much harder? Get it together. To be fair to himself, the aforementioned crimes had always been committed with the stalwart backup that was his gang, and he’d never exactly enjoyed—no. He didn’t deserve fairness. He had no backup now, and delicate matters of friendship and of the heart had always been desperately more difficult than doing what needed doing to protect and provide for the ones he loved.

Lost in thought, Monty realized with an upset groan that he’d wasted all the time he’d had to think about conversation topics or generally ‘things to say that don’t make you sound like a freak’ instead worrying about how challenging this was going to be. Counterproductive was what you’d call that. Idiot. Kaden was coming back his way now, two cups in hand. The zombie put on an appreciative smile, giving the man a nod as he sat down across from him. “I’m… glad you came,” he started, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. “I kind of worried that I’d asked too much of you today.”

—

“Such a complicated order, not sure I’ll remember without writing it down,” he teased, but he was happy to hear that the other man didn’t do anything complicated to his coffee to the point that it barely resembled coffee at all. As he walked towards the register, he gave Monty’s shoulder a small squeeze. He didn’t question it in the moment but he would have plenty of time to question it while standing in line at the register. 

Was that too forward? Too much? Should he not have done anything? Putain, he wasn’t even sure what compelled him to do it in the first place. He could feel his palms getting sweaty. Fuck. He was in the middle of trying to dry them off on his jeans when the cashier asked for his order and he nearly jumped. This was stupid, he needed to stop acting like a goddamn idiot. He ordered two coffees and shuffled off to wait for their drinks. 

“You’d better not make another scene,” the barista said as she handed him his order, her eyes boring into him like daggers. 

“Huh?” Kaden was caught off guard. The hell was she— oh. This was A Latte to Love. This was where that girl had sat at his table and then accused him of cheating on her. And couldn’t forget the coffee thrown at him. “Right. That. Listen, it’s not what you—“

“If I have to clean up your mess again…” A burst of steam rose from the espresso maker, obscuring her face.  When she leaned forward to reveal herself, a metal stirrer was in her hand, held like a knife and Kaden was fully confident that she could brandish it like a weapon considering the look of pure detest on her face. 

“Right, yeah, uh don’t worry about it. Won’t happen again,” he said as he quickly grabbed both mugs and headed back towards the table, going as fast as he could manage without spilling the coffee. 

He practically dove into the seat after placing the mugs down. He wanted to check if she was still watching him but he was too afraid to turn and look. Monty’s voice jolted him out of his moment of paranoia. Right. Date. Maybe. Maybe not. Didn’t know. Anyway. Focus. “Of course I came.” His eyes darted right to the brown liquid in his cup, feeling a little too vulnerable already. “I mean alternative was to hang out with my cousins and watch whatever cartoon or teen movie or whatever they like,” he said, trying to downplay it all. He took a sip of his coffee before glancing back up at Monty. “Had a feeling this might be better.”

—

The squeeze to his shoulder sent a thrill through him, one that he was still shaking off by the time his new friend had returned. If Kaden had been someone he didn’t know at least a little, or someone he… liked, then he surely would have recoiled from the touch. But as it was, he managed to keep it together and not outwardly react beyond an awkward smile, even though internally? Internally he was having a gay panic.

There was some sort of exchange happening between him and the barista, though Monty couldn’t hear what was being said from this distance. All he could see were… expressions. Pretty intense ones. As the man returned looking rattled, Monty broke into a grin. “Oh, well glad to know I’ve managed to surpass such a high bar!” He didn’t sound sarcastic, and he wasn’t trying to—it must have been a bit nice, at least, to have family nearby. 

His gaze met Kaden’s, and then danced over to the barista staring holes in the back of his head. “Um… hate to ask, but what’s the deal with the niña behind the counter?” he asked, trying not to laugh and failing a little bit. “She looked… riled.”

—

“Yeah I could be watching endless videos of clips from that clock app or whatever it is. It’s stiff competition.” Kaden considered dropping the playful tone and saying something a little more earnest but the farthest he got was opening his mouth a little. Merde. He didn’t have a fucking clue what to say that didn’t sound idiotic so he brought the mug up to his lips instead and took a sip of his coffee. 

“Putain de merde.” He rubbed his palms down his face and groaned. How the fuck was he going to explain that. “Uh, right. I came here a few weeks ago and there was this girl who sat down at the table with me who I didn’t know. And some couple was in a fight and made a scene and this kid decided to try it herself I guess. So she started saying shit like I cheated on her and then threw her coffee at me.” He could feel his cheeks getting redder as he relived the moment. “All these fucking people thinking I was dating some teenager and—“ Kaden buried his face in his hands for a moment. “Embarrassing. I don’t even know that kid's name. Anyway, that barista remembered me from that and was not on my side in the matter. I sort of forgot that all happened here. I was trying to, at least.” Kaden was still afraid to turn to look at the barista but he could feel her gaze searing into his back all the same. 

—

The delight on Monty’s face was laced with sympathy, and he really did try to push that to the forefront, but god it was a funny story. “Oh no,” he gasped softly, tugging on the collar of his sweater and ducking his face down into it, trying to stifle his laughter. His eyes stayed on the man, though, watching him bury his face in his hands in embarrassment. “You poor thing. That’s mortifying. I don’t think I could ever show my face around here again if it had been me…” That wasn’t going to help. He laughed and shook his head, silently apologizing as he reached with the hand that wasn’t hiding half his face to brace it against Kaden’s arm for a moment. Just a moment though, because it immediately set off all his alarms again. 

Letting the sweater fall back to where it wanted to be, he busied himself with taking a sip of the coffee Kaden had kindly gotten for him. “Well, I can’t say that’s the explanation I expected… but I’m glad I asked,” he teased the other gently, smiling around the lip of the mug. 

—

Kaden couldn’t blame Monty for laughing a little. From the outside, it was pretty fucking ridiculous. “Yeah, I guess I was hoping that it wouldn’t stick or people would forget, I don’t fucking know.” He felt a jolt run through him when Monty’s hand gripped his arm, brief as it was. A jolt of what, he couldn’t say. He noticed the other man’s hand was cold, but it wasn’t that. It was something else. Something that made him want to reach out and– No, nope, that was stupid. He made sure to grab his mug again to make sure his hands didn’t do anything fucking idiotic in the meantime. “Really, I’m taking a risk here, assuming you’re not going to make a scene and get me banned from the place. And I feel like I should ask what you did expect but I’m not sure I want to know.”

He tapped his fingers on the handle of his mug, trying not to stare too much at the man sitting across from him. Kaden didn’t want to come off too intense or weird or anything. At least not any more than he probably had already. “So, uh, how long have you been in town? With the ranch and stuff?” 

—

Monty’s brow dipped in a faux look of offense, though his open-mouthed grin remained. “Me, make a scene? I would never. I’m just a simple country boy, no flair for the dramatic here.” He rolled his eyes but then buttoned it with a softer smile to assure Kaden it was all in good fun. “As for her, well… I don’t know, I thought maybe she was a slighted ex, or something. Friend of an ex, maybe.” It wasn’t as if he had any experience in that arena, and all his reference material was from TV and movies. Seemed like a silver screen moment, for sure.

“Oh, about…” He had to pause, looking down at his hand and counting on his fingers. “... five years? Though I didn’t have the farm up and running until late 2019. Before that I was just… figuring things out. You know.” Getting caught eating brains in the woods by a werewolf. Adjusting to having a friend. Trying to get a loan. Normal things. “A lot of the animals were bought from other New England farms that were failing after these big companies started buying everyone up. Mostly in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont… not a lot of reach all the way up here in Maine, yet. Folks still like their local products.” Realizing he was absolutely overexplaining, Monty bit his lip. “Crap. Sorry. Too much.” 

—

Kaden tried to bite back his smile from getting too goofy. “Alright then, country boy, I’m going to hold you to it.” Still, he couldn’t hold back the laugh at the suggestion that barista was an ex. It seemed too absurd considering the circumstances. “No no no, definitely not an ex. Hell I haven’t even been with anyone since I moved to the states.” Merde. If Kaden could swallow his words to keep them from spilling out, he would. Didn’t need to fucking admit that. Just when he thought he couldn’t manage to embarrass himself anymore. 

Kaden’s forehead crinkled as the other man started apologizing for talking too much. He wasn’t sure that was possible. He was pretty sure he could listen to Monty talk about this shit all night. Which, uh, he definitely wasn’t going to tell him that part. Still, he raised his hand and waved it off before saying, “no apologies necessary. I mean we’re here to talk, right?” Actually he wasn’t completely sure now that he put it in words. “Uh, you know, get to know each other or something. I guess. I mean, especially if—” He stopped himself just short of calling this a date out loud. Yeah Monty definitely wasn’t the one who should be worried about talking too much. Kaden reached back to rub the nape of his neck. Putain, he had a feeling his cheeks were burning up again. 

He cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee before continuing. “Anyway, five years. Been a while, then. Uh, where are you from, then? Cause I’m pretty sure most people from Maine aren’t fluent in Spanish.”

—

Oh dear. This one had a habit of saying things he quickly regretted, didn’t he? Monty had learned to just say less over the years, though half of that lesson seemed to be going out the window now that he was having a private conversation with someone… well, someone like Kaden. His expression turned a bit sympathetic and he let out a chuckle, looking down into his mug. “Oye, no worries, neither have I.” Of course there was a pretty big difference between a few months and—at minimum—five years, but… it was only the tip of the iceberg, and Kaden didn’t need to see the rest. “Ah, yeah. Suppose you’re right,” he agreed when Kaden assured him he’d not been making an ass of himself by rambling. Whatever was left unsaid started up a curious train of thought in his head, and Monty nearly missed what the man was asking him next, trying to push the conversation along and forget about whatever he’d been about to say. Especially if what?

“México,” he circled back, answering the question that had come after the blunder that left the man across from him blushing. 

He was cute. Oh boy.

“Oaxaca, if you wanna get specific.” As if his strong accent wasn’t a dead giveaway. But then he supposed that folks not from a Spanish speaking country might not be able to tell the nuanced differences there. “And you, you’re… French?” He’d known some French folks, back in the 1900s. Transplants from Europe, looking for a new life in America. They’d always been kind to him. “I’ve never left North America,” he admitted, leaning into his hand as he propped it up on the table with his elbow. “That must be kind of scary, I would think. Going to a whole new place across the ocean. But brave. What brought you here, if… if you don’t mind?”

—

It wasn’t Kaden’s intention to say all that shit just to find out if Monty was single but, well, it was still nice to know that was the case. His brow raised at the answer to his question. “Funny, you’re the second person I’ve met from Mexico in the past month or so. Can’t say I expected this town to have a bunch of Mexican expats, it’s not exactly close.” Small world after all, he supposed. “But yeah, I’m from Lyon, France. It’s on the east side of the country, well south of Paris, and a few hours from Geneva.” He’d encountered enough people this side of the Atlantic who couldn’t find his country on the map let alone his hometown so he’d gotten pretty used to explaining it right off the bat. 

Kaden couldn’t keep the corners of his mouth from turning upwards when the other man called him brave. Merde, c'était un idiot. He did his best to brush it off with a small huff of disbelief. “Alright, like moving from Mexico to Maine is just a walk across the street. It’s not that different. Plus, I visited the states once or twice. A long time ago, but I had family here. Well not here. In the country but uh had never been to this part. So, I don’t know. Not scary so much as really fucking weird.” Hell, there were times where being in Wicked’s Rest still felt like he was just on some sort of extended vacation or some fucking fever dream. Somehow it hadn’t fully settled that he’d moved. That Lyon wasn’t actually home anymore.

The last question choked him. The easy, simple answer he normally spat out wasn’t the forefront of his mind. Because he wasn’t there to just visit family. He didn’t move there for a job. He wanted to keep those two simple answers in mind, but the only thing he could see in his head was the knife and the blood on the couch and the look on–

Kaden pinched his eyes shut to block it all out. When he opened them, there were big brown eyes looking back at him. Shit, he had to look insane. He tried to fake a sneeze or a cough. “Sorry,” he said, trying to will his heart rate to slow down. “Uh, yeah, I had to leave. Family bullshit. Just… needed a fresh start.” Putain. Kaden was pretty sure that was more than he’d fucking told anyone at this point aside from maybe Andy. He just hoped it wasn’t too much too soon. 

—

Monty wondered briefly if it had been Emilio, and the mere thought of the hunter set him on edge. He hoped that Kaden had at least had more luck with the man, but judging by his tone, it hadn’t been anything too out of the ordinary. Hell, it probably wasn’t Emilio at all. He was just being paranoid. “Lyon, ah, I hear it’s nice there,” the zombie agreed with a nod, faintly recalling someone telling him about a place with that name quite some time ago. 

“It was a long walk, I’ll admit…” Monty joked, shaking his head. The man’s train of thought had him laughing and shrugging in defeat, until he finally relented. “All right, all right, I take back the compliment,” he snickered. “Or maybe I’ll just say we’re both brave then, eh? Okay compromise?” It was certainly some amount of bravery that had gotten him here, after all. A month ago he’d never have dreamed of doing something like this. 

The smiles and laughter gave way to something darker, though, and the cowboy felt his heart sink like the stone it was. “No, it’s—I’m sorry. I should not have asked.” It was clearly a wound, and not an old one at that. At least Monty had the benefit of time. “Well… if it… means anything, that’s why I left México, too.” There was a beat of silence as he fought the urge to look down again. “Family… you know. Found family. Troubles. Ah—” Running a hand through his hair, he sucked in a sharp breath. Habit. “Anyway. We don’t need to get into that.” He tried to look as apologetic as he could. “For what it is worth, I’m… glad you ended up here. Glad to have met you.” It wouldn’t mean much, surely, in the face of whatever tormented him, but… hopefully it was enough to shoo away the cloud that had formed over their shared table.

—

Kaden rolled his eyes at the other man’s joke but even then he couldn’t conceal the laughter. When Monty suggested he was going to go back on his words, the hunter brought his hand to his chest, acting as if he’d caused him great pain but he could only mask the smile for so long.

The hunter waved off an apology for the second time now. “Nah, it’s a reasonable question.” Not his fault that Kaden’s life was a fucking mess. Putain de merde, maybe it was best this didn’t go anywhere after all. The thought of having to explain, god, anything about being a hunter or his sister or his family – his stomach dropped at the thought. It would have anyone running for the hills and he couldn’t blame them. Right, probably best to enjoy whatever nice moments while they lasted. 

As much as he didn’t like seeing the flash of sorrow sweep over Monty’s face, Kaden felt some faint ping of hope that maybe he wouldn’t run after all. At least, not immediately. Before he could second guess his actions, his hand reached out to the man across from him. It only made it halfway between them before Kaden clenched his fingers into a fist and awkwardly laid his hand on the table. Merde, he wasn’t sure what his actual plan was but something in him just wanted to reach out and offer some sort of– something, fuck if he knew what. Comfort? Solidarity? Empathy? Putain. “Guess there are worse places to end up,” he said, the smile finding its way back to his face. “Granted, I’m not sure how true that’d be if I hadn’t run into you,” he added, his eyes drifting towards his fingers as he traced invisible circles on the table. “Pretty sure I owe Manzanita a lot of apples for the introduction.” He looked up and locked eyes with the cowboy again; it was easier once the tone shifted. “Speaking of, I have to know; is she the most interesting way an animal’s shown up on the farm or…?” Kaden raised his brows, prompting any stories Monty might have to share. 

—

Butterflies erupted in Monty’s gut as he saw the man’s hand sliding across the table toward him, and he was equal parts relieved and disappointed when it halted, closing into a fist instead. The contradictory emotions made him annoyed with himself, and he was thankful that Kaden was speaking again, distracting him from the feeling. Glancing up, he caught the other’s gaze just in time to be terribly embarrassed yet again, one hand coming up to cover half his face as he let out a weird little laugh. He didn’t even know what to say to that—his initial reaction was to tell the other to stop, but that wouldn’t be very sincere. He liked it, so far at least, he just wasn’t good at playing it cool. 

“Uhh, no, actually,” he stammered, trying to shake away the tension in his shoulders. “There are—we have a couple of… oxen that showed up on their own and refused to leave.” Catoblepones, if he was being truthful, but that wasn’t exactly an option. “So now they’re just part of the herd.” He thought for a moment, then chuckled. “Also, a couple of my hands have won animals in card games. The dogs we have now, they came from a man who… well, let’s just say they weren’t his top priority. Chickens, too. The…” He couldn’t think of the word, instead lacing his fingers together and gesturing purposefully with them, “... crossover?—of gamblers and folks who don’t know how to properly care for their animals is a little...” The right word for how much it upset him didn’t seem to exist in his vocabulary, so he just shrugged instead. And then, thinking about what he knew of Kaden’s profession, he smiled. “I am pretty sure if I had a job like yours, the farm would instead just be a sanctuary for animals down on their luck. I have very little self control when it comes to things like that.” Manzanita was a good example—taking on another full grown horse was a big deal, especially when they already had foals on the way. But how could he turn her away?

—

Putain de merde, how was this man this fucking cute? On top of being sweet and charming, too? Hell, Kaden wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to keep himself from saying or doing something even more idiotic than he already had. Maybe he should accept that it was inevitable. He could just cut to the chase and… No, not yet. 

“Oxen? Just wandering around Maine?” Kaden laughed and shook his head. Though he had to wonder if they were really oxen. Maybe he should take a closer look next time he was at the farm. Shit, did he just assume there would be a next time? Sure, he’d gotten an invite earlier but all the same. He was glad to table those thoughts before they spiraled out of control as soon as Monty started talking again. “Fucking people gambling with animals, disgusting.” His frustration was tempered when watching the way the other man find his words. It was hard to hold onto any anger, even for those assholes who deserved it, when watching his hands create the visual of what he was trying to say. 

“I believe it,” he said with a chuckle. It wasn’t hard to imagine Monty walking into the shelter and scooping up every single animal he could get his hands on to take them back to the farm. “Trust me, it can be hard to walk away sometimes. Especially the cases when I can’t bring the animals to the shelter.” Those cases where it was clear there was abuse or negligence going on but nothing was to the point that he could act on the situation. Those were the days that made him question the job. “It helps that I barely have space for a guinea pig let alone all the animals in the shelter. I mean, granted, guinea pigs need more space than most people think they do and fucking pet stores don’t help the situation any when they only sell those stupid–” He caught himself going off on a tangent that he really didn’t need to wander onto. “Anyway, it helps to see all the moments when an animal gets adopted and finds the right person. Like today. Doesn’t always happen but it makes all the bullshit worth it.”

—

“Something like them, anyway.” He wasn’t a great liar, but he hoped he could skate by on vagueness alone. “Maybe that’s not the right word in English.” It was as good an excuse as any. 

It was disgusting, which was why the folks he knew that were good at poker would use it as a tool to root out those types and get the animals in question in a place where they’d be better handled. No one who worked on Monty’s farm was there just for the paycheck, or even just the free brains and blood, it seemed. They all cared just as much about animal welfare as he did, and it was clear that Kaden was a kindred spirit. 

Sympathy wound its way into his expression and the zombie sighed as he listened, only able to imagine how tough it must have been to deal with those dismal situations. The upset faded as Kaden started to ramble, for lack of a better word, about guinea pigs. Of all things.

Monty pressed that sweater sleeve over his mouth again to hide his smile, but of course it reached his eyes too, so what was the point? “Well,” he started, sounding like he was barely containing a laugh, “I’m honored to have been the right person.” He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about the mare sprinting along the fence of the paddock for perhaps the first time in her life, and his heart swelled. “She’s such a good niña. I miss her already.” Peeking at Kaden with one eye, he finally lowered his hand. “And I’m glad I got to share that with you. You are—I don’t think I’ve met someone outside of the people that work for me that care like you do. It’s… ah… refreshing. And very sweet.”

—

The cowboy lowered his hand from his face and Kaden’s own brightened at the sight of him without the fingers he was trying to hide behind in the way. Merde, he had to look so goofy. And surely he only looked goofier once Monty started complimenting him. His heart skipped a beat and he was pretty sure there were butterflies in his stomach trying desperately to escape. “I, uh…” Kaden’s eyes dropped down to his mug and he tried to find something to say to that but he couldn’t figure out what he could say that wasn’t, well, probably way too much. “Thanks. I can’t say I’ve met anyone else who cared as much outside of the shelter, either.” 

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, maybe it would distract him from letting his mouth run away with him. “Guess I’m used to my little sister making fun of me for liking animals so much.” Keira always thought it was a distraction from their duty, that he was stupid for caring so much and that animals weren’t that far off from monsters sometimes. He loved his sister but sometimes– He quickly shook off the thoughts of her. 

Still, somehow, keeping his gaze lowered for a bit was enough to build a spark of confidence. “Sweet, huh?” He looked back up at Monty, a wry smile on his face. “Funny, I was going to say the same about you.” He hoped he wasn’t betraying his bravado by blushing too much. 

—

“Mm… younger siblings can be a pain,” Monty chuckled. “I should know, I was one.” He didn’t mean to emphasize how it was no longer the case, but the blood relatives he’d left back in Mexico were so far and away from his thoughts most days that sometimes they didn’t feel much like family anymore. They were all long dead, and too much had happened since then for him to give it much thought. 

Then again, you’d think he’d be able to say the same thing about the man from his past that haunted him, but that was… different. It had stunted his self-discovery for over a century, and he still carried it very close to his heart. 

“Oh, now…” he groaned, amused in spite of his shyness. “I have been called many things, Kaden, and sweet is not one of them. Don’t start lying to me just to make a good impression.” He was joking, clearly evident in the grin that stretched across his lips, though there was a nugget of truth in the self-assessment. He’d never seen himself as a good person. Even saying he was kind was a stretch—he simply wanted to do the right thing whenever he could. It didn’t really matter what that looked like. “Stupid, that’s the one people usually go for,” he added with a breathy laugh. “Strange, maybe. But sweet?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head, feigning disappointment. “I’m just about as mean as they come, amigo.” 

—

“That so?” Kaden rested his arms flat on the table, leaning in as he continued. He noticed the use of past tense on Monty’s part but it didn’t seem like something to poke at. He figured the other man would elaborate if he wanted to. For all he knew it was just a slip of the tongue, just the wrong word choice. “Youngest or somewhere in the middle?” he asked. “I only have Keira so lucky me got to be the oldest.” With all the pressure directed squarely on his shoulders. Even now after he’d refused to carry on the family legacy, he could still feel the weight trying to crush him. He had to wonder if he could ever fully shrug it off.

“Stupid? Not sure what that makes me, then. But I’m willing to bet whoever said that should go look in the mirror if they want to see stupid.” Kaden was surprised to feel a flicker of anger at the thought of anyone calling the cowboy stupid, but it was there all the same. “Alright, now you’re just messing with me. I’m not convinced there’s a mean bone in your body.” The hunter was aware he was already rather biased but even then, he just couldn’t imagine the man sitting across from him being honest to god mean. Then again, Monty probably had no idea just how much of Kaden’s own life was wrapped in violence. It was possible the other man was in a similar situation. Even so, he couldn’t picture those brown eyes and that smile ever shifting into anything harsh or angry, as much as he tried. “Unless it’s in your pinky. Maybe. But it can’t be more than that.” 

—

“Oh, youngest. Always the baby, which was sometimes good, sometimes bad. When you have six other siblings… that’s a lot of bullying,” he laughed. “So I had to bully back.” His eldest sister had always been sweet with him, though, and he’d imprinted on her terribly. He wondered, looking back, if she’d always known he was… different. Perhaps that’s why she protected him so vehemently from the adolescent cruelty of his brothers. “Oldest is not an easy burden to bear… but I am sure you did so with honor,” Monty offered with a small smile and a shrug. 

It was fine for him to be self-deprecating, but the moment such a thing passed from Kaden’s lips, the man frowned. “Oye, don’t say that about yourself.” He recognized the hypocrisy of the statement, and huffed out something that was between a sigh and a laugh. “I was just… never educated. It is what it is.” He waved a dismissive hand as if to clear the air, knowing that it wasn’t likely to work. 

“What if I told you it was my whole right side?” he chuckled, closing his hand into a fist and doing a very slow, goofy impression of an uppercut. “I’ve laid some men out before, you know. When their… trash talk got out of hand. Or when they cheated at cards!” It was tough to imagine, but he’d not always been such a helper. Usually at the behest of Hector. He could only assume he would do the same thing today, if he ever felt that way about another person again. 

—

“Ah, it all makes sense now,” Kaden said, his eyes crinkling from all the damn smiling. “Thanks but I don’t think my family agrees with you too much.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. He couldn’t even begin to start wondering what his mother and sister were saying about him now. Not that he couldn’t imagine what they were saying, just that it would hurt too much. “Oh well, can’t do much about that.” He took another sip of his coffee, hoping to shrug it off. 

It wasn’t long before Kaden found himself rolling his eyes again. “Not educated isn’t the same as stupid. Look, I barely passed secondary school. I think they let me out of sheer pity. That or none of those teachers wanted to deal with me ever again.” The truth was, school felt like such a waste of his time. Kaden knew what he was going to be, what his life would be like, and none of it involved a need for algebra or synonyms. He was a hunter, a monster slayer, and that was that. Why waste time with homework or studying when he could be training? It’s not like he could just pretend to be normal or hold onto any delusion that his life could look any different than the plan that was laid out in front of him since the day he was born. 

“I still don’t believe you,” he said, shaking his head, his lips pulling upwards into a smile despite his efforts not to. “But fine, alright, you’ve defended yourself, sure. Not sure that makes you mean.” Kaden obviously didn’t know everything or have the full picture, but he had a feeling he was sitting across from a genuinely good person, whatever it was he might have done in the past or not. The way he was at the farm and then now– The hunter may not have had a concrete reason why he felt like that was the case but he couldn’t shake the feeling either. 

—

The man’s attempt to make Monty feel better about never having gone to school didn’t go unappreciated, drawing a soft, warm smile from him. He didn’t think Kaden seemed like the type to lie about that sort of thing just for the benefit of a near stranger, so he took it as earnest truth. And it did make some small part of him feel a little bit taller, he thought. 

“Doesn’t it? Punching people isn’t a very nice thing to do.” The zombie chuckled, shaking his head. His mind jumped to thoughts of the men he’d held at gunpoint, back in the day. The men he’d ripped from their saddles and shot, only to steal their belongings. Murder for dollars. That’s how it was, then. If you couldn’t hold down a steady job—and hell, sometimes even if you could—you’d never have enough cash to feed your people. To take them somewhere safe, somewhere far away, where you could settle. 

But sure. Punching people was the worst of his misdeeds during his time with that gang. 

As he went to take another sip of his coffee, he realized it was the last one. Mm. “I think…” he began, setting it back down on the table, “one of the things people like to ask each other when they first meet is… something about hobbies. Personal interests.” A beat. “What do you do in your free time, Kaden? If you have any. I know I barely do, so nothing is a perfectly acceptable answer.” 

—

“Alright, alright. I guess you’re right. Still, you could have done worse.” Kaden knew all about doing worse. If only punching was the worst thing he’d done. His hand absent-mindedly rubbed his opposite arm, almost as if he thought he could wipe away the harm he’d done with his own two hands. There was no taking any of that back, no giving back the lives he’d taken or filling that hole for anyone who–

He pressed his thumb into his bicep to force him out of his own damn head. Monty probably shouldn’t bother with him but he wasn’t going to tell him that. Not yet. He’d enjoy it while it lasted.

“You know, I think you’re right,” he said, brightness returning to his face as he spoke. He exhaled and gave himself a second to think. “Well first off, I don’t have a lot of free time. But I run every morning I can. I’ve been fixing up the cabin a lot, there’s all kinds of weird little quirks.” And by quirks he meant things in disrepair. “I did pickup football– I mean–” Kaden was about to clarify and call it ‘soccer’ since he so often had to now that he was in the states, but he stopped himself when he realized. “Right, guess you use the right name for it, too. Anyway, I’d do pickup games back home. I’m not very good but it’s fun,” he said with a shrug.

—

Brightening himself, Monty nodded enthusiastically. “Fútbol! Oh, I love fútbol.” It was one of the few more modern things that he’d latched on to over the years. “The hands and I all play on Sundays in one of the fields! We have terribly made goal posts and everything!” He shook his head, grinning, “Brendon made them. He is excellent with animals, but not so much with wood and nails.” The smile evolved into a laugh and Monty reached for Kaden again, this time letting his hand sit bravely atop the other’s sleeve rather than immediately pulling back. “You should come play with us some time! You will be horrified by how competitive I get.” 

Settling into a softer grin, Monty had to commend himself on the prolonged contact. Sure, there was clothing in the way, but still. It was something. “Also, if you ever need any help with those, ah… quirks, I built all the cabins on the farm. I am happy to lend a hand. Two, if I like you enough.” 

—

“Really?” Kaden said, eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. He was so distracted by the idea of a good match that he nearly missed the hand on his arm, but the moment he did, he felt that flutter in his chest that was starting to become familiar. Putain, his cheeks were going to start hurting if he kept on smiling this much. “You’re on. And in that case, I won’t even hold back.” 

There was temptation to place his own hand on top of Monty’s, but he resisted. Didn’t want to spook him. It was clear enough both of them were too awkward for their own good. “You built them? Putain, that’s impressive. I’ve worked on some construction sites but never built a whole house by myself before. Hopefully none of the quirks are anything serious but I’ll always take a skilled hand.” He leaned in a little closer over the table. “So what do I have to do to get the second one?” He raised a brow, smirking as he waited for his answer. 

—

The delight at having another person to come to the farm (and get a ball kicked so hard into their gut that they’d get laid out by it) was shadowed by, absolutely and staggeringly dwarfed by the next few things out of the man’s mouth. 

First, it was praise, which Monty always had a hard time accepting. He was just about to pipe up in protest when the man leaned in closer, shutting him up in a split second. His eyelids fluttered in a partial-blink, his thoughts flatlining, leaving him utterly empty-handed. 

Except, of course, for the forearm that was still beneath his palm. 

“Uh.” His smile couldn’t seem to decide what intensity it wanted to rest at, shifting as he tried to start speaking at least three different times, and failed. But on the fourth— “I think you… might already have it,” he admitted sheepishly, letting his gaze drop down to where his hand was touching Kaden. Dios mío. He felt faint, if that was even possible.

—

The bravado Kaden had when he’d asked his question was slowly leaking out of him with every millisecond that the other man flustered. Not that he planned to let that show on his face, but his heart was beating a mile a minute. And at his answer, it stopped all together, skipping a beat like some sort of damaged vinyl record. Any hope that he didn’t look like an idiot was out the window. As much as he wanted to keep his eyes locked on Monty’s he was a little relieved when his eyes flitted down to his hand; he might have been flying a little too close to the sun otherwise. 

Instinct kicked in and this time, the hunter didn’t second guess it, simply lifted his free hand and rested it on top of Monty’s. When he tried to speak or look back up at the other man, he realized he’d used up the last of his confidence for the time being. That was fine, right? A moment or two in silence wasn’t bad. 

Once he was able to get air back into his lungs and dared to look up, he attempted something that was close to words, though it was more like stumbling and stuttering. “Uh, so, yeah. I know we just met… But, I figured–” And it suddenly felt like the room had lost all its oxygen. “I don’t know if this was a, uh, you know… But I’d like to, um…” Merde. He wished he could blame his lack of words on the whole second language thing but that wasn’t it. It had been a long fucking time since he was this flustered around anyone. Something about Monty, it just… He was so goddamn cute, but anyone could see that; that was impossible to ignore. But there was also something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet. All he knew was he didn’t want to mess shit up. And he felt just confident enough to take another risk.

“Putain, I don’t think I’ve been this nervous around someone since I was a teenager.” Kaden laughed, trying to shake off the nerves, and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Anyway. I wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a date.” Good. He managed to say one damn thing without stumbling over every fucking word, but even the hint of silence now was too much to handle. “Or, well, another one if this was– But, uh only if you want to. It doesn’t have to be that, I mean, if I got the wrong idea or if… ” The only reason he was able to stop fucking babbling was because he ran out of goddamn breath. Which was probably for the best.

—

When the other sat his hand atop Monty’s, the zombie felt certain he might slide right out his seat. It took everything he had to remain upright and not yank the collar of his sweater over his entire head. He didn’t know what to say, so he just didn’t, waiting and praying that Kaden would eventually fill the silence and spare him the panic alarms that were going off in his head. 

He hated being touched, but he also really fucking loved it. Christ.

Kaden was having just as hard a time as he was, it seemed, and it finally gave Monty the courage he needed to glance up again. The look of shock on his face slowly turned to amusement as he watched the man stumble through his thoughts, though it was still definitely laced with his own embarrassment. 

A date. Which this maybe was, maybe wasn’t, but he was asking very clearly for a date, and Monty was about ready to die his second death. “Hey,” he interjected softly when Kaden had to take a breath, stopping him from going on any more. “Yeah, I… yes. I’d—like that.” On a whim, he rested his last remaining hand over the top of Kaden’s, creating a stupid little tower of awkward touches, and laughed. “Now…” He retracted the hand again, almost shaking it out as he did so, “If it’s alright with you, I would like very much to… move. Walk. I’m going to lose it sitting here. We can just—” He gestured to the town outside the coffee shop, assuming that Kaden understood the need to dump the anxious energy that had been building up this entire time. They could continue their conversation in the sun, he figured. He hoped. 

God, it had been a long time since he’d hoped for anything.

[ask-the-six-human-souls]

Kaden + Lucas:

D V

H E

J I

L R

M K

thank you

(("D- What was their highschool experience like?"

Well, they were both homeschooled (and Kaden never made it to highschool, sadly...). But, both Kaden's mom and Lucas's grandmother did their best to teach their kids all they could! They probably used some homeschooling programs or something like that!

"V- Whats their biggest pet peeve?"

Kaden: Hm...probably people being mean? That or, I'm not sure if this counts, but, maybe others not getting along? That makes him more sad than annoyed, though...

Lucas: Probably when someone uses improper grammar. Yeah. Hes one of those kinds of people XD though hes never mean about it.

"H- Where is their favorite place to be?"

Kaden: Anywhere his friends/family are! Also parks/playgrounds!

Lucas: Quiet, calm places. Libraries, cafes, parks...places like that!

"E- What is their love language?"

Kaden: Definitely physical touch! Like hugs and stuff like that. He wants all the hugs -w-

Lucas: Hm...Words of affirmation or acts of service maybe?

"J- What is their greatest weakness?"

Kaden: Being too nice/trustworthy of others for sure...its gotten him into trouble many times.

Lucas: I'd say his curiosity...it doesnt get the best of him anymore, but it certainly used to. Hes always been super curious, but sometimes it can get him into trouble.

"I- What makes them feel safe?"

Kaden: His mother, definitely his mother ;;u;;

Lucas: His grandmother, drawing and reading!

"L- What is their secrets to happiness?"

Kaden: I guess his secret to happiness would be to always look at the positives, no matter the situation! That and help others, cause when you help others you feel better about yourself!

Lucas: I guess his might be sort of similar? Don't dwell on the negatives and try not to get involved in fights or drama? Those kind of situations usually lead to stress.

"R- How tall are they?"

Kaden is 4' 5" and Lucas is exactly 6'0"!!

(I already answered M for both of them in another post)

"N- What are their hidden talents?"

Kaden: Obviously cooking and baking! He may be young, but hes very good at making dishes! He learned from the best!! :)

Lucas: Drawing, definitely. He tries not to show it off too much, but its obviously something hes very good at!

[cosmic-ships]

To my darling husband, Wrench,

I hope this letter finds you well and wrapped in warmth. As I sit down to pen my thoughts, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for having you by my side, a constant pillar of strength and source of unwavering support.

First and foremost, I want to express my deepest appreciation for your presence during the challenging times, especially during my hospitalization. Your support became my anchor in the storm, providing solace and reassurance when I needed it most. Your caring nature and the way you handled everything with grace made a significant impact on my recovery.

Reflecting on those days in the hospital, I am reminded of the countless instances when your love became a healing force. Thinking of your visits brought comfort to sterile surroundings, transforming the cold hospital room into a haven of warmth. Your thoughtful gestures, whether it was bringing my favorite snacks or sharing uplifting stories, infused joy into those seemingly monotonous days.

Your ability to navigate through difficult moments with such compassion is a testament to the depth of your character. I felt your love as a soothing balm, easing the pain and fear that often accompany moments of vulnerability. It was in those moments that I realized the true extent of your love – not just in words, but in the genuine care and effort you put into ensuring my well-being.

I am truly touched by the countless acts of kindness you showered upon me, from holding my hand during medical procedures to patiently listening to my fears and concerns. Your reassuring presence turned what could have been an isolating experience into a shared journey, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Beyond the challenges of illness, I want to express my gratitude for the everyday moments where your love shines brightly. It's in the gentle gestures, like a comforting hug or a cute joke, that I find solace. Your ability to make the ordinary extraordinary with your love is something I cherish deeply.

I admire the way you effortlessly prioritize my well-being, showing me that love is not just a word but a series of thoughtful actions. Your selflessness and dedication to my happiness create a sense of security that is priceless. In your company, I have found a sanctuary where I am accepted wholeheartedly, flaws and all, I know I don't need to be perfect around you for you to love me.

As I navigate the ups and downs of life, your unwavering support is a source of strength that propels me forward. Your encouragement has been a driving force, pushing me to reach for my dreams and overcome obstacles. In your belief in me, I find the courage to face challenges head-on, knowing that you are by my side.

Our shared journey is adorned with countless memories – both big and small, bad and good. Each moment spent together is a precious thread that weaves a story of love, resilience, and companionship. I adore the way you find joy in the simple pleasures of life, reminding me to appreciate the beauty that surrounds us.

I want to express my deepest gratitude for your love, your time, and your presence. You are more than a hisband; you are my confidant, my ally, and my greatest source of comfort. Through your love, I have discovered the profound beauty of connection, and for that, I am endlessly thankful.

I am saddened that I cannot be around at the moment to show you endless supply of love and affections as I normally would but I wanted to at least write this letter to let you know how much I appreciate everything you do.

Thank you for being the anchor in my storm, the light in my darkness, and the never ending support that pushes me forward. I look forward to many more shared moments and creating a future filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures

With all my love,

Kaden

Divider by @/Cafekitsune

[mariacallous]

While mobile health options have been celebrated by doctors and advocates as a way to expand treatment for substance use disorders, there has been persistent concern over how private the websites offering treatment and support really are—especially now that the US Supreme Court’s toppling of Roe v. Wade has reignited the national conversation about how far medical privacy protections extend online.

The Opioid Policy Institute (OPI) and Legal Action Center (LAC) today released the findings from a 16-month analysis of a dozen major substance-use-focused mHealth websites, revealing details of how much data is shared with third parties. While the sharing of any kind of patient information is often strictly regulated or outright forbidden, it’s even more verboten in addiction treatment, as patients’ medical history can be inherently criminal and stigmatized.

Generally, patients seeking treatment for substance use disorders, or SUDs, are protected not only by the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) but by a law called 42 CFR Part 2 (commonly known as “Part 2”), which guarantees the confidentiality of treatment records and protects individuals from having their treatment history used against them. Browsing histories, however, exist in a gray area, and though it’s not exactly medical information, experts find these sites’ monitoring of it concerning.

The OPI and LAC analysis used Blacklight, a privacy tool created by news nonprofit The Markup to analyze the websites for Bicycle Health, Boulder Care, Bright Heart Health, Confidant Health, DynamiCare Health, Kaden, Loosid, Ophelia, PursueCare, reSET-O, SoberGrid, and WorkItHealth on four timepoints from March 2021 to July 2022. All 12 websites included technologies that collect, identify, and share information about users with third parties and had ad trackers that are used for advertising purposes. The average number of these trackers “generally” increased over the 16 months, researchers found.

Furthermore, 11 of the sites used third-party session cookies that identify visitors and track them across other websites to serve ads, and four of the 12 used session recording, which monitors the behavior of visitors to the sites, from their mouse movements and clicks to their scrolling and typing, even if the text input is never submitted. Half of the websites used Meta Pixel to send user data to Facebook, 10 used Google Analytics (which can track user metrics), and all 12 sent some data to ad tech companies that buy and sell user data for advertising.

Many of the providers highlight their commitment to “privacy” on their websites. However, as Regina LaBelle, director of the Addiction and Public Policy Initiative at Georgetown Law’s O’Neill Institute, explains, “In the addiction policy field, when we define our position about privacy, I think it is much more comprehensive than what is laid out in some of the companies’ definitions of privacy.”

Ad tracking is commonplace across the internet, but these are sites for individuals with highly stigmatized medical conditions. Experts are concerned about what could happen as a result of the tracking, but not necessarily that it’s already been used nefariously. Part 2 exists because the sensitive information people share during treatment for substance use disorders could easily impact their employment status, ability to get a home, custody of their children, and even their freedom. Health care providers and lawmakers recognized long ago that the potential threat of losing so much would deter people from getting life-saving help and set up strict laws to protect those who do seek treatment. Now, experts worry that data collected on telehealth sites could bring about the harm Part 2 was designed to prevent and more, even inadvertently.

Pointing to the recent case of a Nebraska teen who was charged for self-administering a miscarriage after police reviewed her Facebook messages, Dr. Westley Clark, who formerly lead health IT initiatives at the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, drew a parallel: “It won’t take long for the narcotics section of criminal justice to realize that the abortion section of criminal justice has tools that they can also use,” Clark says. “With these technologies, all I have to do is get an administrative subpoena … if I suspect you of being an addict. I can go to Facebook. I can go to Google.” He also expresses concern that for the right price, entities holding such data wouldn’t even require a warrant to hand it over.

Clark cautions that he isn’t aware of law enforcement looking at data from addiction-focused mHealth sites but believes it could happen in the post-Roe world. He, like other experts contacted for this story, is a strong proponent of telehealth as a tool to tackle the ever-expanding overdose crisis and wants to see telemedicine companies do a better job of protecting patient privacy. LaBelle says she thinks these mHealth companies are helmed by “well-meaning people who want to do good but may not understand the totality of the issues that are involved in getting people the services they need, and how critically important a broad definition of privacy is to protect these people.” The Legal Action Center’s Dr. Jackie Seitz, one of the authors of the research, says she also appreciates the value of these online services and questions whether providers themselves realize “all the different, leaky ways that the information they’re collecting about patients is sort of floating out.”

One person who does know about those leaky ways is Sean O’Brien, a lecturer on cybersecurity at Yale Law School who founded the Privacy Lab at Yale’s Information Society Project. He worked with the OPI and LAC on previous research that focused on mobile apps in the addiction telehealth space and lamented that it’s “shocking” to see mHealth providers still using so many third-party trackers despite the fact they’ve been “under the microscope” for some time now. “They’re just sharing it with everybody they can,” he says, adding that what he finds particularly problematic is the caching of the data on servers, where someone could “scoop up” the information.

Leaders at some of the analyzed companies were quick to respond and share their thoughts on privacy, noting they always aim to improve the services offered to such a vulnerable population.

Boulder Care CEO Stephanie Strong says her company is subject to HIPAA and Part Two and “takes patient privacy extremely seriously.” She adds that her company uses digital advertising and web measurement tools “sparingly” (indeed, Boulder Care used fewer of the tools than others in the report) and limits the use of ad tracking software to website visitors and inquiries only, without reporting back to Google or Meta on any actions that could be “indicative of actual treatment.” Patient care is delivered by Boulder’s app, which does not use any tracking software.

Lisa McLaughlin, co-CEO of WorkIt Health, says her company “is committed to creating a safe place for our members to receive discreet and accessible virtual care.” A representative for Confidant Health echoes that the company recognizes the importance of privacy in SUD care and will “continue to adhere to HIPAA and similar legislation as well as upholding our own internal protocols which we developed to protect our members.”

Representatives from other companies included in the study did not deny the use of the third parties that researchers identified, but they maintained that this poses no threat to patient privacy and is in keeping with standards across the internet and in the medical space.

Nick Mercadante, founder and CEO of PursueCare, says his company does not collect, store, or forward protected health information from visiting users, and that patients don’t receive their care directly on the PursueCare site. He also said PursueCare does not share protected health information (PHI) with third parties, though it does “utilize Facebook Pixel and Google Analytics for internal reporting purposes.”

“It is a reality that users of most websites on the internet today are subject to collection of user data,” Mercadante says. “Health-care-related websites, including those of health systems, hospitals, inpatient care facilities, and other brick-and-mortar care facilities, are no different.”

Pear Therapeutics, responsible for reSET-O, notes it doesn’t share PHI without patient consent, does not use any digital footprints to identify user identities, and reports data “on an aggregated and de-identified basis.”  Experts remain concerned by the collection of the data in the first place, de-identified or not, but acknowledge that what’s happening here isn’t illegal and is likely to continue for that reason. Danielle Tarino, who formerly led the health IT team at SAMHSA and now works in cybersecurity, has spent a considerable chunk of her career investigating the privacy implications of mHealth, especially for people with substance use disorders. She believes the best shot at protecting privacy will come from the creation and implementation of additional tools.

“This is how small tech businesses work, and absent anyone telling you that you’re not allowed to do that, you’re allowed to do that,” she says, questioning whether the sites’ use of ad trackers and outside software boils down to finances. Clark, too, expresses concerns that the use of data collection is financially motivated and, for the right price, could be sold or leased to law enforcement or other parties. “When there’s monetary incentives, people make the changes. When there are no monetary incentives, they don’t,” he says. In short, data privacy experts don’t anticipate that mHealth companies will stop collecting data unless forced.

The opinions of cybersecurity professionals and telehealth company CEOs are relevant, but perhaps most important are the opinions of individuals with substance abuse disorders, the people who stand to lose the most if experts’ fears are realized and for whom Part 2 was designed. After being shown the data from the analysis, one patient who utilizes brick-and-mortar health care providers said via direct message, “Thank you for reaffirming why I don’t use telehealth.” He added that he wasn’t sure the findings would stop anyone from using telehealth if that were the only way they could get treatment. Those patients would simply have to trust their providers act in their best interest.

Another patient who uses one of the companies analyzed by the OPI and LAC was alarmed by the findings.“They should [be required to] have a service that prevents them from being able to track anything like that,” he says.

“How much is my information worth?” he asks, questioning whether data from his and other patients’ website use was more valuable than the few hundred dollars they generate each month as patients. “It’s so scary. This is the first time in my life I’m not on probation in 10 years. Now, I’m not. Thinking that someone could really just look at that … Who knows what’s going to happen?”

[ama-ships]

Wait are you and cosmic-kaden married??

I mean kind of in a non-legal way~ o3o We've been best friends for over two decades and sometimes we act like it and sometimes people in real life assume that we are~. To be fair Kaden is my best friend in the entire universe and we are very close. We also tend to snuggle when we spend the night together~

Kaden and I are best friends and we're super duper close. I have been claimed as the wifey for many of those years~ But I assure you it's not serious~ Cause I cannot lose my best friend~ Kaden means the world to me ♥

[starwarsgirl198]

10 Facts about Kalene Vernius

She is the youngest Empress Regnant to take the throne, having been only five years old when her mother had died of an illness.

She is the ninth child born to Empress Regnant Keshara Vernius and Kaden Vali, she is the eighth female child born to them.

Kalene was much stronger in the Force then her older sisters which is why she became the Empress Regnant.

Kalene is compassionate ruler, always considering other people before herself, and she stood firm in what she believed in. She was also a persuasive and extremely empathetic speaker. She is regal and austere; she is also calm, cool, and collected. She isn't dressed as the ruler, she is fiery, short temper on top of being strong willed, sarcastically funny and stubborn. Kalene is kind hearted, showing it to those she views of innocent people.

Kalene has had feelings for Palpatine since she turned eighteen but never acted upon them and the only two who knew about it was Anakin and Padme.

She is 5'7'" not as tall as some of her older siblings.

Kalene is the descendant of Darth Bane and knows about the Plan but doesn't know who the current Master.

She is very observant to the point where she is able to tell when someone is trying to manipulate her.

Kalene has a close bond with Anakin Skywalker, viewing him as a sibling.

She had a twin brother but he died at birth.

[cavaliant]

//Of course right after I post about not wanting myself to baby Rein too much Kaden goes and melts my heart with fluff. I love him. Rein loves him. I love them.

[rinriya]

My MC’s in IF pt.28

Kaden Nerha

Sinners & Saints by @sinnersandsaints-linwrites​

Since childhood, he wanted to help people, so he always thought he would become a psychologist. However, life is an unpredictable thing. When he became a detective, his life goal didn’t change. He still wants people to feel safe, and for their peace of mind he will do whatever it takes. He is well versed in psychology and has an excellent understanding of other people's emotions. That’s why he often worries about others and maintains an amazing composure in many situations. He respects his superiors and is quick to get along with people. Kind, open-minded, sociable and cheerful. Likes to flirt, but is very bad at it. Never at a loss for words. He often improvises in his work and this is the main reason why he is often scolded. He can be kind and courteous, but also he can smash the door or punch you in the face. But only if the situation demands it, of course. Determined in his work and never backs down. He tries not to show his problems or sorrows to anyone. He is quite persistent, straightforward, honest and always gets things done. Tenacious. He often risks himself and will not hesitate to put himself in front of a bullet just for the sake of another. Believes in justice. He tries to see the good in people and never acts as a judge of other people's lives. Very, very stubborn. Will make you believe that people can be kind, caring and unselfish of their own free will. 

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Fury & Flesh || Coyote Exorcism || Emilio, Jude, Metzli, and Kaden

TIMING: Same time as Spirit & Bone LOCATION: The woods near Regan’s death mound PARTIES: @monstersfear, @deathbecomes-jude, @deathisanartmetzli, @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden and Jude go to Regan’s death mound while the exorcism is happening in the cabin, hoping to draw the coyotes away. Emilio and Metzli end up in the same place so they all get to meet some angry spectral coyotes.  CONTENT WARNINGS: Animal cruelty (mentioned/implied)

Emilio took a long drag from his cigarette, trudging along through the woods and keeping an ear open for nearby danger. He didn’t expect to find any. The paranoia that lived within the hunter’s chest tended to be reserved for him and him alone, uncaring of Regan’s problems or her claims that the world was out to get her. Of course, every time he’d assumed in the past that no one gave a shit about bones as much as Regan did, someone had come along to prove him wrong. Maybe eventually, Emilio would learn his lesson there.

Maybe it would be today.

He barely heard it. They were moving quietly, but not quietly enough to avoid being heard by the sharp ears of a hunter, especially not one as constantly vigilant and on edge as Emilio was. The snapping of a branch, so quiet it was barely a noise at all. Emilio stiffened, tensing as his eyes quickly swept the surrounding area to see — there. 

“Might as well come out,” he said dryly, voice carrying in the otherwise quiet forest. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

–

Jude carefully crept closer to the hut Regan was supposedly in. On their back, a large backpack full of bones weighed down on them, on their arms, dozens of runes inscribed in blood, needing just a last line to finish any number of pre-prepared spells. Both of healing and to cause wounds. They just needed to draw the attention of the shadow coyotes and bait them while the exorcist did her work. In and out, kept safe by the others, and if they failed, well… Jude had a backup sacrifice ready to go. 

As they spotted a figure roaming, they looked back to Kaden in surprise. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. It was the hunter that had felt the waves of death coming off Jude, Emilio. Hopefully… it was just a coincidence, and they were just out hunting… well, the kind of beings Jude had brought with them. This could be problematic. 

Emilio turned to look at their direction, and spoke into the woods. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be able to sense an undead presence nearby, so Jude figured they’d give him something to sense, just to drag him away if his presence was a coincidence, and to keep him occupied if it wasn’t. They wordlessly and subtly tugged at the marionette strings of their magic, and held their breath, looking to Kaden for their cue. 

Twenty feet away, a half rotten porcupine ambled through the forest, not being quiet as it snuffled for some food it didn’t need. 

–

Metzli’s hand twitched on the branch of the tree they were in, thinking that Emilio had caught them. They smiled then, seeing the stranger act on such short notice. A distraction, red-herring that they were sure wouldn’t deter the slayer. They quirked a brow in thought. It was very possible he could be swindled into thinking he didn’t survey his area correctly. After all, they’d manage to follow him even with his innate ability to sense them. Taking a deep breath, they could smell the aroma of death surrounding them, both rotten and fresh. More like dirt than putrefied flesh. Smelled like home. But they couldn’t get lost in the musings of their safe dwelling. Danger was near, and they needed to get ahead of it. 

Propelling themselves from the tree, their silhouette broke through the treeline, the moon hitting them with its glow. “You’re really lacking in the surveillance skills lately. Can’t believe you caught a dead porcupine and not me.” They landed in a crouch, with the biggest shit-eating grin they could muster. “Got anything I can break?”

–

This would work. Kaden was sure of it. It had to work. Lil would find Regan, do the exorcism, no one would explode from a banshee scream, it’d be fine. 

He had a feelling, though, that the heaping pile of carcasses that he could smell from a good half a mile away wasn’t fine. “This way,” he told Jude as they walked towards the death mound. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with this coyote spirit or what exactly it was trying to get Regan to do, but he was pretty sure if something bad was going to happen outside of the cabin that might mess shit up, it was going to happen there. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable carrying his weapons again, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He was even less comfortable working with the necromancer who caused all this shit in the first place but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “Should be–”

His words caught on his lips as he shut them tight to listen. Footsteps, small crunching leaves. He held his arm out to stop Jude from moving any farther. They stood still, but it was clear whoever or whatever was out there wasn’t walking away, but towards them. When he caught sight of who it was, he rolled his eyes. Should have known he’d be nearby. Kaden really didn’t want to hurt the guy too bad, but he was going to have no qualms kicking his ass a little after the crap he dragged Ari into. He’d buy him a drink later to make up for it, it’d be fine.

Kaden’s focus shot to the clearly once dead porcupine that was resurrected and shuffling not too far away, The ranger shot a glance at Jude and thought about punching them square in the jaw. Not yet. He needed them. That’d also have to be for later. “You. Make sure there are no other cursed bones over there,” he whispered to Jude. 

He took a deep breath and stepped out from their place behind the trees, holding his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky, connard,” he said, casually as he could manage. “What are you doing out here, any–” Just as Kaden was about to take a step forward, a figure fell from the trees above. “What the–” That was the vampire, right? Metzli. And they seemed familiar with the slayer. His brow knit as he cautiously approached, slowly reaching for the knife at his side, completely unsure what he was getting into. 

–

The snapping twigs weren’t the only thing that clued him in to another presence; there was that twitch at the back of his neck, that unmistakable sense that told him something undead was near. The problem, of course, was the giant fucking mound of dead shit Regan had set up nearby. The first time he met her, she’d been pretty fucking set on the idea of nabbing the vampire he was fighting and taking it to her ‘death mound.’ For all Emilio knew, there were undead things buried beneath the bodies she’d collected, throwing his senses all over the place. He might have told her as much if he thought there was any possibility she’d listen.

Another branch snapped and, acting on instinct, the slayer tossed a knife in its direction, turning his head to follow the blade. It landed in front of… a fucking reanimated porcupine. Christ. What the fuck was wrong with people? He pulled another knife, ready to put the thing out of its misery, when a familiar voice sounded off from behind him. Immediately, Emilio tensed. 

The Frenchman showing up was exactly the kind of shit Regan was paranoid about. Emilio hated this town, a little, for continuing to prove her delusions about everyone being after her damn bones correct. He turned to snap something at Kaden, to start in a pointless argument where he’d tell the guy to leave, he’d refuse, and they’d punch each other until something changed, but before he could get a word out, someone else dropped down. 

This, Emilio thought, really wasn’t his night.

With Kaden on one side of him and Metzli on the other, Emilio was beginning to feel boxed in. And, like a wild animal, he didn’t take to the feeling well. He pulled out a knife in one hand, a stake in the other, and glanced wildly between the two. The distraction, though partially unintentional, was a good one; with two people to focus on, Emilio was unaware of the third presence nearby, the necromancer who was playing with his senses in the same way Metzli and that damn porcupine were.

“What, you two teaming up now?” He knew, even as he asked it, that the answer to the question was no. Kaden seemed surprised by Metzli’s presence, and Emilio doubted the ranger was a decent actor. “Leave. Both of you.” His eyes darted to Kaden. “Regan’s not here to keep me from kicking your ass this time, asshole.”

—

Jude met Kaden’s gaze without flinching, just a tiny shrug as if to ask what he expected. 

Unnoticed so far, Jude crept past the encounter, staying low and sticking as close to trees as they could. As far as they’d known, it was just Kaden and them on this, but another figure approached the group, and the tense lines in everyone’s shoulders made it clear this was no happy reunion. Jude reached the edge of the mound of corpses, nose barely wrinkling as they were almost unphased by the stench of death, and slowly slinked behind it until they were entirely hidden from the view of the trio. They smiled as they noticed a moose carcass, recently dragged onto the mound. Regan had found it on her walk after all. No cursed bones to speak of, though. 

The resurrected porcupine could have been a distraction for Emilio, but as it was no longer needed in that regard, Jude let it continue to bumble through the forest near the mound, neither interfering with the scene nor returning to them, as if it was just a visitor that was as drawn to the pile of death as much as the maggots and worms. They could barely hear the three voices as they pulled bundles of spell components out of their bag, but no one was coming closer, at once a blessing and a gift. They hurriedly arranged threads of string into runes and candles into pentacles, rats tails tied like ribbons around bone. glancing to and from their watch as the seconds ticked past. Ten seconds, fifteen. It was only through prior hours of preparation that the spell came together as quickly as it did. 

Technically, they’d agreed that damaging the mound would be enough to draw out the coyotes. If this had gone without a hitch, they might have stuck with that, them and Kaden punching a hole through some skulls. But there were two unknowns involved now, and Kaden was occupied with them. Jude could use another ally on their side, and they were out of time. The exorcism was due to start.

This cheap semblance of animation didn’t require any real sacrifice more than what had already been made in preparing the bundled spell components. All Jude had to do was thrust their hand in the decaying viscera of a nearby fox and drain the life out of a hundred freshly hatched maggots. White light crackled through the mound of decay. 

Bones of the moose began to assemble like grizzle covered parts of a lego toy. 

–

Just as quickly as they showed up, so too did other parties. Metzli didn’t like surprises, the sudden shift prompting them to unlatch their holster and pull their knife out in one swift motion. Kaden was with the stranger they’d already spotted and of course the two hunters knew one another. Murderers always ran in the same circles. Was why Metzli knew both of them in the first place. “Like hell I’d team up with this shitty hunter. He couldn’t kick my ass on a good day and I’d kick his now if I could.” Pulling the knife from Kaden, they steadied it closer to their body. Just in case. “But, I’m playing nice since he’s buddy-buddy with Macleod.” They blew a raspberry, and waved Kaden away in hopes of giving everyone some distance.

“I take it you two have tangoed with each other.” Eyes shifted between the two in amusement, and they bit their lip to stifle a laugh. If there was more time, Metzli would’ve taken the opportunity to pick on both, but they didn’t. They managed to break two bones, and while the vampire didn’t know much about anatomy, they knew there were definitely more than two bones in a skeleton. “Well, that’s the least of my problems. Emilio, whatever you’re protecting, I need it. And I won’t take no for an answer.” Rolling their eyes with a smile, they landed and stopped on Jude. Every note off of them reeked of magic—of a type of necromancy. Something they had just experienced themself. Only, this mocked death, and even the lives of creatures who once held breath in their lungs. It was like they were spitting on them. 

Sucking their teeth, Metzli dropped their knife to their side and backed away from everyone. Whatever was happening, they needed space to ensure they could assess properly. Especially with their impulsive need to annoy. Not even their soul could change that. “Ay! Tú,” Pointing a finger at Jude, they peered around Kaden and narrowed their eyes suspiciously. “Why are you messing with that pobre moose?”

–

“Putain, teaming up?” Kaden didn’t have a chance to be insulted before there was a knife held up towards him. From the vampire. Who was sporting one less arm than the last time he’d seen them. The ranger’s head tilted as he paused instead of slapping the weapon out of his face. They did have both arms the last time he saw them, right? It had been dark and all, but he was pretty damn sure. “Hey!” he shouted back as Metzli insulted him, pulling his own knife out, ready to go. “I could take you in a second, connard. I was just being gracious that time in the alley, got i– Wait?” His hand dropped slightly at the familiar name. “You know Macleod?” Huh. Guess this was a small town. Weirder yet was the thought that Macleod actually referred to him in any manner that was favorable. Kaden liked her well enough but he just assumed she didn’t care that much for him overall. Huh. Guess that was nice. 

The nice feelings didn’t last very long. “Tangoed?” Kaden huffed out a laugh. “If you mean he tried to break into my fucking apartment for a goddamn bone, sure, yeah, we tangoed.” Kaden wasn’t sure who he was looking forward to decking first. Did the plan involve him punching anyone? No, not necessarily. He still planned to all the same. “Wait, you think I need her help? Putain de merde, if anyone needed her help it was you.” Yeah, he was definitely throwing punches before this was over. “I’m not leaving. You lea–”

His focus shifted as his head turned back towards Jude and the very dead moose that was somehow back on all fours. Kaden’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the necromancer. They were on the same side. They were on the same side. If he kept saying that, maybe he’d remember that. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing with that moose yet, but he knew he didn’t want to be on the other side of those antlers. He had to work with the necromancer who tortured animals. He had to work with them. For now. 

A scream pierced through the clearing, all the way from the cabin. Kaden winced, the sound pounding in his ears. They were a half a mile off from the cabin. The scream had to be loud. Regan was in trouble. A pit sunk in his stomach, instincts telling him to turn and run towards the sound. No, no. Regan wasn’t in trouble. The coyote was. He hoped. He had to help here. He had to make sure Emilio didn’t interrupt. And with the shock of the scream, he figured he had a second. A second that he took to grab Emilio closer and slam his fist into the slayer’s jaw. Now who needed Regan’s help?

–

If the look on Metzli’s face and the knife in their hand were anything to go by, they weren’t working with Kaden. Unfortunately, that didn’t exactly make them an ally, either. Emilio knew the vampire was here with one goal in mind, just as they had been at the cabin when they’d broken those damn bones and left him floundering. There was no version of this story that ended well for him; there never was. Kaden and Metzli might not have come here together, but it was clear they were on the same side nonetheless. And that side was the one that was going to fuck up Emilio’s life over some goddamn bones. Christ. He should’ve left this town when he had the fucking chance. 

“If you weren’t a stubborn fucking ass too obsessed with his ex to let go of a couple of worthless goddamn bones, I wouldn’t have had to break in,” he protested, as if Kaden was somehow wrong to be upset here. Emilio knew he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in this particular argument, but he was stubborn and angry and stupid enough to argue anyway. He usually was. “I can’t leave, you stupid — “

He broke off as Metzli shouted at something behind them, whirled around to look with the hand holding the knife at the ready. His attention was split three ways now, and in spite of the magic causing its own kind of a distraction, he didn’t have to squint to recognize the third figure in the circle. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Who else was going to come out of the woodwork here? The guy he’d punched at the bar? The aquarium security guard? Levi? It was like a fucking class reunion of Emilio’s recent physical altercations. 

And then — a scream from the cabin. Emilio whirled around, going against instinct and turning his back on all three of the ‘enemies’ in his vicinity to look back in the direction of the cabin instead. Regan was screaming, which meant Regan was in trouble. Which meant, as per the fucking promise he was tied up in, Emilio needed to go. The crowd here was a distraction; he should have realized it sooner.

He only managed half a step towards the cabin before Kaden yanked him close enough to throw a punch, landing his knuckles against the side of Emilio’s face with enough force to cause the slayer to stumble backwards. That faint but still present self preservation instinct told him to take off towards the cabin, but as usual, the anger that burned in his chest was a little hotter. He took a swing at Kaden, no thought going into the action at all. The knife had been dropped, though it was hard to say if it was an intentional move to keep him from accidentally stabbing a guy he didn’t actually want to stab or a happy accident. He wasn’t really considering it. The only thing on his mind was how much he wanted to hit Kaden in the fucking face. As soon as the ranger had a bruise on his jaw to match the one on Emilio’s, he could take off towards the cabin and figure out how to stop whatever was going on with Regan. His priorities were just fine, as always.

—

Jude swayed from the exertion of the spell, and looked over at the group as one of them addressed Jude in Spanish. They cocked an eyebrow. “Making friends!” They replied, trying to meet Kaden’s eyes. Every second that this spell kept the moose animated, the coyotes were more and more of a risk. And with as many coyotes due as they suspected were coming, they needed Kaden here. Their moose was a glass cannon, and the porcupine wasn’t what anyone would call agile. They met his narrowed eyes, and pursed their lips. He’d have to get over it. Once the medical examiner was free, they’d meet whatever youthful judgement they were owed then. 

Before the coyotes came the scream. Loud and piercing, as if it was someone right beside them. Jude spun on the mound, but there was no one there. Another ghost, maybe? In their pocket was a pouch of salt that they wielded in front of them, swinging it firmly around, but any ghost made no appearance. 

The scream also roused a response from the group, but unlike Jude, they seemed to recognise it immediately, a thought that made their stomach drop. They watched Emilio try to leave, Kaden take a swing at his face, and wondered where the third one stood. Hopefully, with them. 

As the fist fest began, the air temperature around Jude began to drop, and apparitions began to appear around them. One, after another after another. 

A dozen growling spectral coyotes, ears pinned to the back of their head, teeth bared.  A dozen pairs of eyes starving for revenge. 

“I’ve got company over here!”

—

Metzli stood between the men, dumbfounded by the amount of density the two created with what they saw as stupidity. Really they were just impatient, over the situation they had volunteered themself for to save their friend. Having a conscience really put a wrench in their self-preservation, but they didn’t mind too much. Not when their decision brought the opportunity to mess with two hunters. They at least had that going for them. “Of course I know Macleod. She’s my partner. And you,” They shifted their focus toward Emilio, but soon found that the attempt to speak was futile when they both went into attack mode. 

As the two idiots duked out whatever pissing contest they began, Metzli honed in on Jude instead. “Okay, so you’re making friends. I’m guessing if you’re with this idiot, you’re here to—” To fight something. But they didn’t have time to voice that or seek an answer. The piercing scream from the cabin made them nauseous almost instantly. Everything happened at once, coming together in a jarring crescendo. The likes of which matched the all too familiar scream. Regan was either killing someone or in pain. Both scenarios made Metzli’s stomach wrench in a way that made their body twitch. Enough to step forward to get to their friend, but again, there was another interruption. “Puta madre. Que chingados—okay. Okay.” The hairs on their neck bristled and they slipped their knife back into its holster, only to retrieve another. An iron one that Macleod had given them. 

“Don’t worry chiquitín,” Metzli remarked toward Jude, standing in front of them. “I can cover you so long as you cover me a little, chale?” They gritted their teeth and let out a growl, baring their own teeth in return to the coyotes. Each spectral beast’s body language screamed threats, but the vampire’s were just as loud, not caving into fear because there was none to feel. They just hoped Kaden and Emilio would get their shit together long enough to fight with them. 

–

The satisfaction of decking the slayer in the face didn’t last long. It was quickly replaced with the pain of knuckles slamming into his own jaw. Putain de merde. Kaden saw it coming, but he wasn’t pleased with it all the same. He reeled back at the punch and was about to throw himself back into the fight when he felt a wash of cold air rush past just before he heard Jude’s cry. 

Shit. The fucking coyotes were here. He had to help contain them, but he definitely had to make sure Emilio wasn’t going anywhere, either. Kaden stomped his heel down at the slayer’s foot and threw his elbow towards him, hoping to slow the slayer enough to give the ranger time to help his necromantic companion. If nothing else, he hoped it’d piss him off long enough to stick around.

Kaden turned to see Metzli ready to ward off the shadowy coyotes that had set their sights straight on Jude. Putain, that was one pissed off coyote. If it wasn’t possessing Regan, he had a feeling he would be on its side. 

But that wasn’t the present situation, so the ranger charged towards the spectres, reaching for the stupid pack of salt Lil convinced him to carry around after their last encounter. He tossed a few pieces at one or two of them. Pits formed in their wispy shapes as they turned towards Kaden, growling and teeth bared. He readied his knife as they sprinted for him, fangs headed straight for his ankles. 

How the hell ghosts were able to sink in and yank his leg, he didn’t know, but he didn’t have time to question, simply slashed out at the one on his leg, digging his knife into its back and giving it a twist. Kaden twisted to face the second beast, ready to stab the spectral creature before it leapt at him. Only he saw a flash of gold. The eyes. It couldn’t—

He faltered just long enough for the claws to dig into him, sending him backwards as the other tried to drag his leg forwards.

–

The coyotes arrived soon after the scream and with them came the familiar pounding in the slayer’s chest. He’d really only had one experience with the coyotes, the first night he’d met Regan, but he remembered it well. Well enough that she’d found them an effective threat to use against him in the time since, even if she hadn’t followed through on it. Logically, he knew they were playing for the same team here, even if he wasn’t exactly as willing a participant as the ghostly canines seemed to be, but the quiet prickle of fear on the back of his neck remained despite the logic. He didn’t envy Jude, who seemed to be the coyotes’ primary target here… but he was glad to know someone else was in their sightlines. That suited him just fine.

The fact that they provided an adequate distraction for Kaden was a plus, too. 

The ranger turned towards the necromancer, and as much as Emilio wanted to continue their altercation, he knew he needed to take his chance and make a break for it to find out what the hell they were here to keep him from interrupting. There was some guilt with it, of course — he was doing everything in his power to stop a group of people from helping their friend here — but it couldn’t be helped. As per usual, Emilio had to lay in the bed he’d made for himself whether he liked it or not. 

Of course, Kaden couldn’t make it easy on him. A heel slammed down on his foot, an elbow found his ribs with enough accuracy to knock the air from his lungs, and Emilio let out a frustrated grunt as he stumbled backwards. Kaden was gone before he could retaliate, but since the damn coyotes seemed pretty intent on tearing the ranger to shreds, Emilio figured any punches he threw would be overkill, anyway. He paused for a moment, the old instinct to help a fellow hunter who was clearly in need of a hand fighting against the promise bind tugging him back towards the cabin. Kaden was an asshole, but he was only here because he was trying to save someone he loved. So was Metzli. Maybe Jude was, too, though Emilio didn’t know for sure on that one. Either way, leaving the three of them for coyote bait felt wrong. But…

Emilio had people he loved, too. And he couldn’t keep them safe if he was dealing with whatever consequences this promise would make him pay if broken. 

He’d get Regan to call the coyotes off once he got to her. She’d agree, anyway; he’d seen clearly enough at Kaden’s apartment that she didn’t want to hurt her ex, tested the waters a little by asking her about him after. Whatever was possessing her had a strong hold, but she was still capable of containing it long enough to make sure the people she cared about were okay, and Kaden still landed pretty high on that list. He got the sense Metzli did, too. When he explained what was going on, she’d call the coyotes back and everyone would be fine. 

Hoping the coyotes would provide a sufficient distraction to make up for the fact that there was no way he’d be moving quickly after Kaden’s last attack, Emilio turned back towards the cabin and attempted to slip away. 

—

Chiquitin. The word made Jude smile, and they nodded in agreement. Cover for cover. 

Surrounded with a hunter, a one armed individual with blood in their eyes, a skeletal moose and a mummified porcupine, they felt the first vestiges of the possibility of success. Until they didn’t. Kaden dragged down, Emilio turning instead of helping. They yanked on the necrotic threads of life force for the porcupine, sending it barreling towards Kaden. Iron threads had carefully been twisted around many of its keratinous spikes, so while it was slow, when it reached them, the iron spikes dragged holes through the spectral coyotes. If mist could hiss and sputter like a boiling kettle, that was what these coyotes did, starting to melt into nothing. 

Jude snarled, pulling pen from pocket. They looked down at their bared arms, covered in almost-finished spells that just needed an extra pen-stroke to complete. Only as many spells prepared as they had skin bared, and the resurrection had been a big one. They drew a last line on another spell they had prepared, as white light crackled from the veins in their wrist along to their fingertips, and jumped into Kaden, a healing spell to get him back up. It slithered around the bite strangely, as if even the spell was confused by the lack of huge gaping holes in Kaden’s legs.

Unfortunately, the coyotes didn’t wait for Jude to be ready for the next attack. A dozen deaths demanded a dozen revenges, as four pounced right for Jude’s body. Their moose, tasked only with the responsibility of keeping Jude alive, barreled into the party, antlers down as it tried to gore the coyotes with limited success, just knocking Jude off their feet and onto their ass. The coyotes’ lips curled before pouncing at the moose,  scattering bones as it fell apart like a jenga tower. 

“Shit!”  Jude grabbed a giant femur, pushing it into the mouth of one of the coyotes. The moose bones rattled and tried to reassemble themselves without the femur, but the bone in Jude’s hand was already beginning to crack. 

–

It didn’t take a genius to see that the group was fucked based on numbers alone. But Metzli never was that bright, and they always took being backed into a wall as a challenge. A battle to see who had the hardest head. They’d given enough knockout blows with their noggin that it didn’t seem too far out there to turn the odds back in their favor. Despite how Kaden seemed to be down for the count, they were willing to persist. Having weathered so many storms, Metzli had become one themself. With a core like a volcano that filled them with a cache of pain just waiting to be unleashed upon their enemies. Because of this, they had a way with monsters. Such as the coyotes that dared instigate a fight.

Cocking their knife back, Metzli whispered their hope and anger into their attack, splitting their worries with a feverish battle cry. The spectral beasts at Kaden’s legs dissipated with the iron, but they didn’t know for how long, and they didn’t have time to ponder. They just hoped it wasn’t a lethally permanent wound. For Regan’s sake, at the very least. They didn’t think she’d be able to forgive herself if she was an accessory to Kaden’s demise. Luckily, the spellcaster that had come along with the warden had a few tricks, mocking the coyote’s attacks and undoing them right before their eyes. Metzli smiled excitedly, the alert in their chest warming up the hope as they watched the tides shift ever so slightly. 

With that motivation, they holstered their knife and charged toward Emilio. Their arm wrapped tightly around his legs and stopped him in his tracks, preventing him from doing the one thing he was bound to do. Metzli’s heart ached to know they were damning him, but that hope was a blaze and they had to believe that it would all be okay. It all happened so fast anyway. They barely had time to think. He wouldn’t understand, but undoing his perspective couldn’t be a priority when lives were on the line. 

“Emilio! ¡Ya!” Metzli exclaimed, desperately trying to keep him pinned. “You’re gonna get everyone killed! Stop fighting this! ” Limbs grew frantic to keep the slayer down, realizing the trouble Jude was about to be in as they occupied themself with Emilio. Their reanimated guards were failing, fast, and Metzli knew they were next. The coyotes circled the pair, and they shielded Emilio with their body, unsure if they coyotes saw him as an ally. 

“Kaden! Get to your friend! I’ve got it over here!” Or so they hoped. 

–

Putain. Kaden didn’t expect to die by shadow coyote and he wasn’t even sure it was possible, but it sure wasn’t looking good. He braced his arm against the coyote, which was surprisingly solid for a specter, and caught sight of Emilio for a second, sure that the slayer was going to help. And then he walked away. The fucking piece of shit walked away. A flurry of curse words swirled in Kaden’s mind and off his lips as he continued to fight off the coyote. If he just had a second to free one of his hands and use his damn knife, he could maybe–

The spirits melted away almost as quickly as they had shown up and in their place was the waddling porcupine, still very dead, but walking all the same. Kaden blinked, staring back at the creature. How had it…? Squinting, he noticed something strange about the spikes. But there was no way that– Alright, Jude brought the thing back to life along with a moose and tortured the coyote in question, they very much would be the type to turn the porcupine into a weapon against ghosts with iron on its quills. 

He winced as he tried to get up. That piece of shit ghost did a number on it. As he was planning to limp away and brace against the pain, a string of light wrapped around his leg, relieving the pain. His brow furrowed, trying to put the pieces together, only to hear the clattering of bones and whining canine spirits. Metzli sprinted past him towards the slayer as Kaden was finding his footing, heading back to Jude. “Friend is a fucking strong word!” he shouted, running head first the coyotes and the shambling moose that was looking a little worse for wear. Somehow. 

Kaden pulled the pistol from his pocket, aimed and shot the ghost directly on top of Jude. The rock salt pellets tore through one of the coyotes, the spirit stumbling as it began to melt away like the others had before. He hoped those hadn’t hit Jude, but his concern was minimal at best. One was too preoccupied with Jude’s arm to notice the hunter, but the others spun and snarled, turning on Kaden. He shot again but this time the shadowy shapes knew better, blinking and twisting out of the way. The closest coyote leapt onto Kaden’s arm while the other went for his leg. The ranger shot the first one point blank. Still not fast enough, the ghost simply faded and reappeared at Kaden’s back, digging its spectral claws into him. Putain. He dropped the gun and reached for another knife, kicking the second beast away from his knees before plunging the iron knife through the specter. What was that, now, four down? Not bad. Even if the one was still on his back. Kaden tried to slam it into a tree but only felt the wind knocked out of his own lungs as he smacked into the tree. 

–

Acidic guilt burned in the back of his throat at the thought of leaving the others to fight the coyotes alone, but what choice did he have? He didn’t know what would happen to him if he broke this promise. And besides, the coyotes were going to keep coming until Regan called them off, anyway, weren’t they? He’d be more help to this group of assholes by getting her to call them off than he would be by sticking around and letting them make a chew toy out of him.

The silent justification of his decision to leave did little to ease the guilt swirling in his chest, and maybe that was why Emilio missed Metzli’s approach. Or maybe it was the way he’d been fucking losing it for months now, or the way the whole damn forest seemed to be setting off his undead sense. It didn’t matter much what the reasoning was; all that mattered was that when Metzli came at him, Emilio didn’t realize it until it was too late. Their arm wrapped around his legs and he stumbled, falling to the forest floor.

As soon as he hit the ground, he started to struggle. Throwing out his elbows, kicking his legs, throwing his head back in an attempt to make some kind of contact. He heard the leaves crunching as the few coyotes who weren’t focused on Kaden and the necromancer approached, and he had no idea if they’d attack him or not. Technically he was on their side here, but did spectral coyote spirits bound to a possessed banshee recognize that sort of thing? Emilio wasn’t exactly eager to find out. 

“Get off me.” There was a note of panic in his voice that he’d deny later, a genuine edge of fear. At the coyotes, at the endless possibilities of what might happen if this promise was broken, at the simple fact that he was pinned to the forest floor by a vampire even if it was a vampire he begrudgingly trusted. “Get off. You’re the one who’s going to get me killed. I have to — I’ll get her to call them off. That’s the only way they’re going to leave.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was true, didn’t know if there was some other way to get the coyotes to leave them alone, but he knew that this was the only way to stop the coyotes and keep himself from facing the consequences of the broken promise. Was it selfish? Absolutely. But Emilio wasn’t only thinking of himself, despite what it might seem. Fighting the coyotes would do nothing. There were too many of them to take on, even between all four of them, and there was no way to chase them off permanently without Regan’s interference. 

Desperately, Emilio continued to lash out against Metzli’s weight pinning him down. “Please, Metzli, please, you have to let me go. I can help them.” And himself, too.

—

Jude’s shoulder stung as a stray rocksalt bullet pierced through them, but mostly they sighed in relief as the teeth inches from their face dissipated into smoke. Even as they should have had their heart pounding, it was unnaturally calm, seemingly unconcerned by gunfire or vengeful ghosts. They scrambled to their feet, snatching up their dropped salt pouch as the moose slowly reassembled itself. It didn’t know how to. Where before each bone had sat where it was in life, now it only knew the framework of a moose. Its legs were made of antler and ribs, its spine of tibulas and maxilla and mandible. Its face was no face at all, hip sockets where eye sockets once were. It guarded Jude and became smaller every time a spectral coyote broke through it, fractured bones no longer usable for a skeletal form. As more of the coyotes encircled Jude, working as a pack with one mind, they flinched as they heard Kaden hit a tree with spectacular force.

They turned to try to cast a spell to help him, but after all their deaths and resurrections, this time the coyotes wizened up. One snapped at their wrist, knocking the pen from Jude’s hand and leaving the spell unfinished, only to dissipate as Jude swung their salt at it, but another slammed into their knees. Another bit their other arm, pulling it away so they couldn’t cast anything else. Jude’s knees hit a soft pile of mud and rotting meat as pain seared through their joints as sharp as lightning, and the moose that had been trying to defend them collapsed into a pile of bone, and the porcupine couldn’t trundle fast enough. Each bite was like molten magma poured into their bones, electric heat cooking their skin. The world tilted.

“Jude, we came to a decision. You’re too powerful.” An older woman with long braids told Jude kindly, looming over them, her long full skirt dragging against Jude’s shins. Except she’d never known them as Jude. They’d been Dolly back then, because they’d missed being a woman, and had resumed it for that lifetime. It had been a harder one, but a slower one, and as Head Witch of the Vermont coven leant over Jude, they weren’t sure it had been worth it. But none of the coven knew what Jude was capable of. Jude reached for their pen, a quill back then, but they could never quite reach it. Their mind was made sluggish by a mental caster. “It’ll be alright, Jude. You’ll barely feel it.” Jude. No, Jude wasn’t the right name for this lifetime, wasn’t the right fit for the flavour they’d been back then, in stays and bespoke made dresses. 

The image of the Vermont Coven flickered, and for a second Jude could see the coyotes again. But the high priestess reached down, and tilted Jude’s face up to hers. They didn’t remember it, her name, but they remembered how she’d smiled as it began to rain around them, how thunder had crackled through the air. 

“Only one second, Jude,” She said, raising her other hand to the sky. Lightning lassoed to her hand, and shot straight through her into them. Jude’s jaw tightened and every muscle clenched right up, their body a livewire. Whether it was the roaring electricity of a century old witch’s curse or thousands of synapses firing at once, Jude’s heart finally began to race as their muscles contracted until their bones began to groan under the strain. 

The witches in their vision grinned. The coyotes around them bared their teeth as others bit deeper still. 

Only seconds after it finally began to race, Jude’s heart slowed again. This time, it slowed to a stop. 

–

The grip around Emilio’s legs waned at the desperation in his voice. It pulled at the newly forged strings in Metzli’s chest. They knew they were damning him in some way. Making decisions was nearly impossible though. Each option presented a victim, a sacrifice to offer in return. Fate, as they had learned, required balance. The impartial entity spared no one no matter the plea, so Metzli settled to do the same as bullets fired, Emilio thrashed, coyotes growled, and exclamations of pain mixed together.

Spectral beasts closed in, and so too did the vampire. Metzli covered Emilio with their body, only letting go for a breath to grab their knife. “Fuck off!” They swiped, growling and sliding up to tighten their legs around the slayer, firmly keeping him in place. Coyotes snapped and swiped, finding purchase in the Metzli’s skin, tearing. Dead blood lathered their skin, but they didn’t wave a white flag. They couldn’t afford to. 

“I won’t let you get killed, okay?” Metzli swiped, “I can make this right.” Another swipe, but this time, it was followed by a push. The blade sank and they twisted it, making the final coyote of that push yelp and disappear. With a renewed and cautious enthusiasm, Metzli let out a dry chuckle. Their body stung and ached, but they had managed to help in some way, despite their not-so-brilliant plan. 

The area grew too quiet, though. When the realization of that hit, Metzli whipped their gaze around the whole area, landing on Jude and hearing nothing. Nothing. “Kaden!” They requested, pointing with their knife. “Check them! I can’t hear anything! Their heart!”

—

Kaden barely had time to catch his breath when he felt the cold breath down his neck, the teeth sinking in, piercing his skin. Fucking ghost coyotes shouldn’t be able to cause this much pain but that thought wasn’t enough to keep the scream from tearing out of him, made from the little bit of breath left in his lungs. He doubled over and used the momentum to throw the coyote over his shoulder. It felt like his flesh was being torn from his neck, but it was hard to tell what the hell was spectral and what was corporeal anymore. Didn’t matter. All Kaden had to do was fumble for his iron knife, twisting around to stab the shadowy coyote. It started to yelp and melt away at the first contact, but that didn’t stop the ranger from raising the knife and stabbing the spirit again and again, rage pouring through him in a way it hadn’t for a while now. 

The knife dug into the dirt one more time before Kaden noticed the growls and screams coming from Jude’s direction. Shit. Shit. His attention snapped to the necromancer who was covered in coyotes. He stumbled to pick himself up and run to help. He would help. He had to help. 

The snarls grew louder and the shouting slowed. No. Kaden shot off another salt pellet. And another. Two were gone but it didn’t seem to make a difference; there was only one thing they cared about, only one person they wanted to suffer. When he was in reach, Kaden slashed his knife through the canine bodies, pushing it through them to get to the spellcaster, ignoring the claws scratching at him and the teeth bared towards him. With a flurry of iron, Kaden was able to clear the way long enough to see Jude.

“Jude, come on,” the ranger said as he grabbed their shoulder, shaking them despite the wounds covering them, trying to wake them from the shock. That’s what it was. Shock. He was sure of it. 

Their body went limp and Kaden tried again, grabbing Jude by the shoulders and pulling them to sit upright as their head lolled back. “Wake up. This isn’t funny. We have to get out of here before…” The true state of their wounds settled into Kaden’s vision, starting to make sense. The pieces were coming together, but he refused to let it be true. “There might be…” He felt their skin growing cold against his hands.

No.

Kaden reached to their neck to feel their pulse.

It was–

“No.” The word was more like a whisper than anything. Kaden’s hands released before he could think to do otherwise, letting the body flop back on top of the pile of bones and carcass surrounding them. The limp, mangled body.

The body.

All that was left was a body. Kaden was responsible for another body. In the woods. 

He was frozen. Stuck. His eyes were glued to the body. If there was more danger, anything else, he couldn’t tell, couldn’t say. The world went silent and stopped as he stared at the body of the spellcaster he’d let die in the woods. 

—

For a moment, Metzli faltered. For a moment, Emilio thought they might let up, thought he might have something resembling a chance. But only for a moment. Their grip tightened on him again between one heartbeat and the next, protective and damning all at once. Enhanced strength might have given him more of a shot if the coyotes nipping at the vampire’s skin weren’t adding to the challenge of it all, if Kaden’s shouts and Jude’s struggles weren’t distracting him, if he’d wanted to leave half as much as he should have. 

When it became clear he had no real shot at breaking free, Emilio stilled beneath the vampire, chest tight. He let out a laugh at their words, strangled and humorless. “You’re the one who’s going to get me killed,” he said flatly, though there was no real heat behind it. He’d known for some time now that this fae bind wasn’t going to work out in his favor, known that between Metzli and Kaden and all the rest of Regan’s friends who wanted to achieve something that would undoubtedly lead to Emilio’s promise being broken, he’d never stood much of a chance at all. Emilio knew well enough to know how to accept when something was over. 

And a lot of things were over right now.

The air shifted as Metzli spoke, a new kind of chaos overtaking them. Jude’s heartbeat was a hard one to read — Emilio had noticed that the first time he met them in the graveyard and almost stuck a stake in their chest — but he couldn’t hear it at all now. He shifted beneath Metzli again, this time towards the necromancer instead of towards the cabin. Kaden’s voice, a whisper that might as well have been a damn scream, was enough to tell him what was going on. 

It was an old story; someone was dead, and none of them had stopped it from happening. Emilio hadn’t known Jude well, hadn’t liked them much better, but the guilt that settled into his chest was there all the same. 

But there wasn’t time, was there? There wasn’t time to mourn, wasn’t time to fall apart. There never was. “The coyotes will be back,” he said hoarsely, letting his head drop against the forest floor. “If you let me go, I can get her to keep them away from you. That’s what I was trying to do before.” Not the only thing he was trying to do, sure, but certainly on the agenda. 

—

Metzli knew the necromancer was dead long before Kaden’s reaction confirmed it. Cemented it with every plea. Every shake hammered the rusted nails in, and though there was a resistance, there was no stopping death. Their shoulders sank, looking back at Emilio with defeat in their eyes. Empathy was a son of a bitch, but they couldn’t let it latch onto them and be a distraction because Emilio was right. The coyotes’ departure was only temporary.

“I’m sorry,” They choked out, disheartened and defeated. Metzli wanted desperately to do the right thing, but none of the paths fit their wishes. “No matter who I help, someone is going to get hurt.” They said it aloud, but they were mostly saying it to themself. Their eyes tightened shut, and they finally relented, moving from atop Emilio.

With him set free, Metzli bolted to Jude and Kaden, sliding next to them in a rush. Their hands hovered over their body, trying to find something to do, but all they could hear was Kaden’s thundering heart and the shake in his breaths. They were already so cold, and they knew there was nothing that could be done, so they just watched Emilio in the distance, hoping things would turn out okay.

—

Words were spoken, but Kaden couldn’t process the noise. Shapes moved as bodies moved around him, but all he saw was the one body. Just one. Lifeless on the death mound, just another dead thing added to the pile. And Kaden hadn’t done anything to stop it. 

He had to move. Right? And then… do what, exactly? Kaden didn’t know. The only next step he could come up with was “stand.” Anything beyond that, he couldn’t figure out. 

Stand. He could start there. 

Kaden stood and managed to peel his eyes away from the body in time to see the shadowy wisps across the way. A howl pierced through the clearing as the fog took shape, the sound growing louder as the teeth and claws coming into focus. At first it was just three, then it was five, and before he knew it, they were surrounded by a dozen shadow coyotes, back and ready for round two. The ranger didn’t know if he was ready for a round two, not when he felt this numb. But he had to, he always fucking had to fight. Iron knife in hand, Kaden braced himself for another fight, pointless as it seemed to be.

A yelp screamed to his left and Kaden’s head shot just in time to see the shadows twist out of existence. Then another to his right. Until it was all around him, yelps and the spectral coyotes fading away as quickly as they came. 

The ranger furrowed his brows, slowly looking around, trying to figure out what just happened. Were they safe? Really gone? His knuckles went white as he tightened his grip around the knife, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him, but nothing came. Just silence.

“It’s over,” he said. Nothing left but quiet. And death. 

—

Metzli’s weight disappeared from on top of him, but Emilio still felt heavy. He still felt as though he was being crushed, still felt as though he couldn’t get up from where he lay on the forest floor. He needed to run while he could, he knew, needed to take advantage of this distraction to go find out what the hell was going on with Regan and make sure she stopped before anyone else died, but… 

All he could focus on was the damn corpse. The body of another person dead before he could do anything to stop it. He got to his feet slowly, cautiously, but he made no move towards the direction of the cabin in spite of the tug of the promise bind trying to pull him that way. He made no move towards Kaden, Regan, or the body, either. Instead, he just stood in place, uncertain and uneasy. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when the coyotes reappeared; in a way, Emilio had sort of known it was coming. Every time he’d encountered them so far, any effort to remove them had only ever proven temporary. They disappeared long enough to regain their strength, or whatever it was they did, and then they came back with their teeth just as sharp and their eyes just as angry. This was no different. 

What was different was that Emilio didn’t use their presence as a distraction this time; instead, he pulled an iron knife from his pocket and held it tightly, ready to fight the beasts off. He’d never make it to the cabin before they tore Kaden and Metzli apart. He knew that. But… apparently, he didn’t have to. 

There was a yelp, quick and sharp, and then there was nothing. The coyotes were gone. Emilio’s stomach sank. This meant there was nothing left to fight… but it also meant that whatever had been going on with Regan was probably over now. And Emilio hadn’t stopped it. The promise he’d made to protect her and her fucking bones had been broken. Dread twisted in his gut. 

“It’s over,” he echoed Kaden’s sentiment flatly, a hint of bitterness to his tone. Whatever consequence he’d face for his failure was an inevitable thing now. He knew that.

—

There were many things that made a person, many things that made a heart twist and turn in a chest as a reminder that they were still living. Even if the heart itself was quite physically dead. Metzli’s did as much when they watched Emilio stand and decide to fight for and not against. There was a kind of power behind such a sentiment. He was robbed of choice, something so intimately his, one of the only things that could never leave him. Good or bad, those choices were meant to be his, and despite the consequences, Emilio stood up for himself and everyone else, informing what he had decided to stand against. The shock of it crescendoed in a way that reached everyone, ricocheting back to him until he crumbled.

“Emilio!” Metzli propelled themself forward, ignoring everything else around them. Kaden was alive and the coyotes were gone, and they needed to get to their friend. They would keep calling him that despite his persistent rejection. They never needed his forgiveness to place that label, to do what was right, and they would never ask for it. Their atonement required a sacrifice of pride, but when it came to Emilio, Metzli wasn’t seeking such a thing. What they were after was his familialship, the bond that had been created out of such tragedy. They wanted to make art out of the pieces of what was broken, and make something new. So they ran, not away, but to, and caught Emilio in their arm as he collapsed from the weight of the broken promise.

The pain he was feeling was palpable, but he wasn’t dead. A sigh broke out of Metzli’s lungs and they guided him to the ground, holding him close. “It’s over,” They murmured, holding their uneasiness in their mind until they could feel their desire for his survival gripping them. The sensation coursed through them, bringing Emilio closer to Metzli’s chest, and they counted every beat of his rapid heart. It continued, and that’s all they could ask for. Somehow their wish was being granted, and they knew better than to question it. Eilidh had taught them not to. 

[braindeacl]

Petals for Armor | Ariana & Eilidh

SETTING: Celeste’s Tree. TIMING:  Mid March. PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Despite their sorrows, Eilidh and Ariana cheer each other up through the power of flower crowns.  WARNINGS: Sibling death mention.

The patch of wildflowers that Ariana planted around Celeste’s tree last spring seemed to be coming back in nicely. They reminded her of all the flower fields she and her sister used to explore when they were younger and somehow being near Celeste’s tree while she grieved yet another brought its own form of solace. The breeze that made the flowers tickle her bare arms did a lot in the way of keeping her grounded, though she couldn’t stop playing Alcher’s death over and over again in her head. While she’d seen Celeste die, it was all hazy. She’d still been half drunk and out of it from the tranquilizer she was hit with. It didn’t live clearly in her head. She hadn’t seen Sammy or Winn die. While Todd’s death had been tough, it wasn’t quite as graphic. She hadn’t felt quite as powerless. The fight between Alcher and Kaden was all too clear in her mind. The way Kaden almost hesitated, the way she wrongly listened to Alcher’s command to not throw herself between the two, the way her body slowly slumped to the ground, and the horrified look on Kaden’s face as she growled at him to leave. She felt constantly haunted. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something else, anything else. Her hand reached out toward the tree where Celeste’s ashes were spread and she whispered, “I wish you were here. You always knew what to do.”

Somehow, it always came back to that realization. No matter how much she tried to live up to the kind person that Celeste was, she always fell short. Always acted too much on emotion and didn’t think things through. All of those losses, it was hard to not think her sister would have had the answers. Could have saved them. Ariana wiped away a few stray tears and sat up as she heard something rustle nearby. “Hello,” she called out. It was likely just another animal, but it smelled a little bit like death. Or maybe that was just the smell that still clung to her. It was hard to tell these days.

It was nice to see the flowers return. On their own time, instead of forced into wakefulness. Only to be twisted into another’s design, until all was that design. Eilidh knelt down to one — fingers pressed gently on the stem. It danced against her touch with no want of attack. Free from that illness. Like her sweet plants at home; like those sweet people she kept company. The smile on her face faltered. Olds thoughts, old worries, returned just as her loves. Beckoned by the gentle quiet of the forest, which offered no distraction. She went back to this place of sickness to help free them. While it didn’t go according to plan, it did work in the end. Milo and Metzli and her wee ones were returned. Eventually. It was going well. But… For how long? They had each left her before, and they could, would, will again. There were promises of more, but promises were more a plague than a wish. She knew it was best to enjoy it while it lasted; there was no need to make it so fucking complicated. Just love until it ran dry like it always did. But the longer she stayed, the harder that severance would be. She had been given a taste, an example of life in their absence. It will only get worse with added time. The strings that bind held there, but her instincts told her to run while she could. Slowly torn in two.

Those thoughts turned physical, wanting to tear. Ripping instead that delicate stem. The flower tumbling down, now sure to die. With growls in her throat she ripped out more, creating a large hole in once untouched greens. Eilidh stiffened at the sight, mind suddenly clear. Before she sighed, a prayer whispered with it. She picked up what she could of that broken bouquet and placed it behind her ear. Gave them a ride before their time was due. And when she stood, when her thoughts returned to the present instead of both past and future, she heard a voice. A young one, with a touch of a choke to it. The sound made a shiver run up her spine — brought a tension to her eyes. Called to something inside that wanted to claw and nurture, with hands preparing for both. But when she rushed over, all she found was a young woman with puffy eyes. Despite how much her own looked around, she couldn’t find the source for that puffiness. Her gaze settled back down on the stranger. “You alright? Who’s giving you trouble?”

The face that Ariana blinked to saw appeared to be friendly. Considering her shoulder still resting in its sling, that was likely for the better. The flower behind the stranger’s ear brought a certain softness to her that allowed Ari to let her guard down a bit. Even her tone put the young werewolf at ease. This wasn’t going to be a fight and for once, she was actually relieved at that concept. She smiled weakly up at the woman and sat up completely from her previous position of lying down in the flowers. Her head tilted slightly and she answered, “Oh, no one’s giving me any trouble.” As much was true, at least in the current moment. Thoughts of Kaden and Alcher and everything that happened still swirled around in her mind. That was troubling, but probably not in the sense this woman meant. Kaden wasn’t a danger to her, at least.

Ariana looked wistfully toward the carved tree. It held Celeste’s initials and while it wasn’t her sister she was currently mourning, its presence brought sort of a sad comfort. A small sign escaped her lips and she twirled one of the daffodil stems idly around in her fingers. “Just sort of,” she started, unsure of what the right thing to say was, “I lost a friend recently and have a lot on my mind. My sister’s ashes were spread around this tree, so it’s nice to visit.” It sounded sad. It was sad. And if she was being honest, she was fucking sad. No amount of distractions could take away from that. No matter how many times she breathed in the scent of fresh flowers as she was rooted in this spot, that guilt and grief wasn’t something that just dissipated. She crossed her legs underneath her and tried to keep up the small grin, “I like the flower hair.” She gestured toward the flower adorning the woman’s ear and it finally hit her that she wasn’t entirely aware of her surroundings. She listened closely, but there wasn’t a sound outside of her own heartbeat and the rustling of trees in the wind. “No one’s giving you any trouble, right?”

Ah. Eilidh was intruding on a mourning ritual. Eyes were in motion again, but not in search. Not much seeing at all was done by them, in that second of blunt awkwardness. And then they settled, only a blink sooner before her mind did. Her feet followed that decision, taking a step back to leave. Leave the poor child to grief as she wished. Sure, there was an urge to comfort, but they were strangers and she had her own bonds to mourn. More innocent flowers to destroy until her mind finally stopped screaming. But, then, the girl spoke. Like she was asking for Eilidh’s presence, in that simple observation. People didn’t make much conversation when they wanted to be left alone. No, that opened mouth was like a doorway. Inviting. Eilidh’s hand brushed the poor man’s bouquet on her ear, just as her feet returned to their previous position. Facing the other. There was a pleasant hum in her chest, as her fingers danced on those delicate petals. They danced in turn. “Me too.”

The next question was puzzling. Eilidh watched the other with that same sudden interest, reflected back at itself. Such a statement she would’ve thought a common courtesy. But the girl looked at her like she knew a secret. There was a beat. Her own look threatening to turn sharp. Yet, suspicions were hard to hold when looking at such sad, gentle eyes. Ones that called to her gentleness. She relented. “Eh. Probably. Not any current company, though. No.” Trouble always found her, for she was usually the one to find it first. And it seemed, amongst the tears and the tree, she had found more. But this would not turn and bite her; it’s only interest was the girl. The want to help grew stronger. Made those thoughts of the future she knew was closing in become just mumbles. Focus pulled to the present, and in the present she was fine. But not the girl. That grief called to something deep inside. To that helpful wanting that finally was realized. Her legs followed again her mind’s latest decision, but instead of retreating, she sat. “Find flowers’re good for honoring the living. N’ dead.” The line between the two was thin, only a breath separating. “Can show you some makings. Better than this sad sack.” Her hand returned to that ear, the one adorned in colors. Beautiful in their own right, but she could make them magnificent.

Ariana watched the woman with an easy gaze. Something in her stance said she was waffling on whether to stay or go and Ari found herself hoping she stayed. Maybe it was the flowers in her hair or the fact that she was kind enough to check in, but her presence felt nice, less heavy than her own. But she wouldn’t ask. She didn’t deserve to burden someone that way. That didn’t mean she’d say no to some company. She’d never been any good at being alone. Whether that was a werewolf thing or a her thing, she really didn’t know. She looked up at the woman quizzically and let out a dry laugh at her statement. “I get that. Don’t have to look too far to find trouble around here.”

Much to her delight, the woman sat down beside her. It made the air around her feel lighter, easier to breathe. Ariana rarely ran into anyone at this spot save Kaden once or twice. She let that thought go immediately before it had a chance to sour her mood. Instead, she pondered what sort of other flower creations the woman could make. Flashes of Celeste played in her mind. When they were properly settled somewhere and Ariana wasn’t forced into going to school, they’d always spend afternoons among the flowers. Celeste had always loved to braid her hair and stick flowers throughout different sections. Ari had never been much good at braiding herself, so Celeste often wore her flowers in a similar fashion as the woman who joined her. She smiled softly at the memories. It made the current company with her at Celeste’s tree seem right. “They are. Is that part of why you like them,” she asked as she rolled up her right sleeve to show off her tattoo, “I got these for her,too.” She nodded toward the tree and rotated her arm a bit to show the array of black ink winding around her forearm and forming different wildflowers.

“I’d love that,” Ariana answered with a genuine smile as she plucked some of the flowers around them, “What did you have in mind?” She secretly hoped for a crown. She’d worn those many a times on her birthday. The breeze came by gently, bringing delightful floral smells and pollen with it. Not nearly as bad as the pollen had been before the tree disappeared. She handed some of the flowers she’d picked over to her new friend. “I’m Ari, by the way,” she looked up in earnest and added, “Thanks for joining me.”

The smile was contagious, and Eilidh returned it with her own. Born from the pleasant mood, like a warm blanket over the grief, and that she had managed to bring some comfort. Despite the looming sorrow. Eilidh’s own was a distant memory, just as their sources were a distant future. At least in the time the two were together, when the past remembered its place in the timeline. Mourning, of ended life and ended bonds, was best done in company. Many thought otherwise, and her own grief had dappled in that want, but it was nice to see the girl shared the ideal. And shared her place of mourning, which touched Eilidh the most. The meadow was beautiful in its meaning, of death turned into new life. She was certain it carried the mourned person’s spirit, beckoned by the girl’s love, even if Eilidh couldn’t see. Though she didn’t have much time to look before being distracted by the meadow on the girl’s arm. Eyes absorbed the display with a clear fascination, just as they had the ones at her feet. She muttered the names of the flowers she recognized before returning to a normal volume. “Aye. Much like the two. Life n’ death. Flowers bloom n’ wither. Only to be back ‘gain later.” She hummed, her expression turning from wistful to playful. “N’ mostly ‘cause they look real nice, too.” Because everything fell into that cycle of renewal, but not all had the luxury of looking so gorgeous while doing so.

Eilidh removed the assortment from her hair, placing the heap on her lap. Her fingers brushed against each stem: testing both sturdiness and flexibility. A few were too giving , another was too stubborn, and one had been snapped too close to the petals to be weaved. She took these few and returned them to their old home amongst her hair. While they may not be of use for her plans, they still could join in the fun. Satisfied, those hands reached out to ones who still had roots, to complete the collection. But she found that Ari had done the job for her. She nodded in thanks, the smile of hers widening. “Was thinking crown. Or necklace. Same sort, different place.” The word thanks filled the air so easily, and she perked curiously at Ari. Ah, not Other Folk. Her head nodded again, this one in acknowledgement of the gratitude. “Call me Macleod.” She pressed a hand on each knee, as if she were prepared to launch. “Now, you wanna start with the longest, strongest stem.” A hand went to pick a flower on her lap that fit the description. She lifted it up to Ari as an example.

When it came down to it, everything was a cycle. Life, death, violence, even joy. If it could be beautiful with flowers and trees, maybe it could be with life too. Ariana didn’t think loss would ever be easy to accept, but things wouldn’t feel dark forever and that had to be enough. It could be enough, if she let it. So she let herself slide into the easiness of the moment and the way her present company and the sun shining on her back warmed her. “Yeah, that’s a nice way of looking at it,” she mused, “Spring always comes again or something.” Just as sure as she felt lighter now, the heavy feeling would come again, but so would an easiness that felt natural. It was so easy to feel like those darker moments would last forever, that the hurt and loss would always feel debilitating. Macleod’s words were a good reminder that nothing was forever, not even pain.

The proposed flower makings both reminded her of Celeste. She could remember many afternoons much like this one where they would sit in any random field of flowers and Celeste would craft small crows or braid her hair with flowers woven in. It always made Ari feel beautiful in a different way. Normally she felt tough and fierce, the wolf in her proud, but sometimes it was nice to just feel soft. “A crown would be nice,” she answered with a small smile, “My sister used to love making them, too.” She couldn’t help but wonder if some time long ago, Alcher had also enjoyed such a gentle task. Back before the world had taken so much of what she held dear. She wondered what the older wolf had been like as a pup. She supposed she would never know now and couldn’t help the pang that came with wishing she had asked before. It was duller than it would have been without her present company. She enjoyed the smell of flowers that surrounded them and the faint sound of the breeze. “Macleod,” she repeated, “I like it.” The flowers felt familiar in her hands and she followed the instructions closely. She looked through some of the flowers gathered and felt through a few of them to find the strongest of the longer ones. “Got it,” she said with a smile and her eyes keenly watching Macleod’s next movement. Her flower seemed similar enough to Macleod’s to work. “Where’d you learn how to make these?”

“Crown it is.” Before returning to the plucked ones in her lap, Eilidh looked to the flowers still dancing in the breeze. She wondered if it was Ari’s sister waving at them. The wave was returned anyhow, her fingers gently flapping towards them. “Is a fitting gift. Connected to both past ‘n love.” Fitting in many ways. The ashes of a flower lover being the soil for those spring blooms. To be made in crowns that used to sit on that long gone head. But there was another’s; that one still left unnamed. “Your friend. They enjoy flowers, too?” She looked to the chosen flower in Ari’s hand, nodding in approval. Her hands too went in motion; to grab the next and begin. But they stopped, as they remembered who taught them to weave. A knowledge she felt had always been inside — born with her as many others. Stolen from that previous life. A skill that was not condemned, but also not nurtured. Left to rot with her insides, as she grew into her present self. Her family’s love of nature was more for blood soaked soil, not the flowers rooted between. A predator had no need for things like that.

But Sky had been no predator, a fact that led to her grave. No, she was of those precious flowers. Knew their tongue and how to mold them, taught Eilidh their sweet ways. She remembered when her own hands were as unsure as Ari’s. Only in flashes, in bursts of feelings. Still, it made her smile. “Was shown a time ago. By hands gone, now.” She wondered if Sky was watching them, too. Her eyes made quick on that thought, surveying the area for any of Sky’s messengers. There was no flap of butterflies, no matter where she looked. She knew it was cruel to expect Sky’s presence always. And yet, she sighed, letting the sadness tumble out. She continued, “You wanna loop ‘nother round the first. Easier than hair.” A second flower was chosen. Instead of standing firm and strong like the first, this one relented to Eilidh’s action. It twisted around the first’s stem — made one firm loop. The two joined together, until time eventually turned them to mulch. “N’ just keep going.” Another flower, another loop, and the crown began to grow.

Something about a flower crown was soothing. If she could dawn a crown of flowers then maybe there was still something gentle about her. Ariana had been so plagued by nightmares and guilt that she felt like something dark, but even some flowers bloomed in the night. The calm was likely only temporary though she wouldn’t let that notion ruin the moment completely. “That’s a pretty way of looking at it,” she agreed with a small smile, “A good connection, one worth holding on to.” Her stomach turned at the mention of her friend. Alcher’s face was the one that haunted her the most. It was hard to determine why her subconscious was so dead set on guilting her for forgiving Kaden, for letting him live, for still caring about him. It didn’t make sense, Ari knew she couldn’t just let him go. They’d been through too much and he’d always supported her even when she made mistakes. That wasn’t something you just turned your back on. She let out a soft sigh and let her fingers work through threading the flowers. “She did, I think it was more of a nature in general sort of thing. Out here in the forest is where people like us tend to feel most at home, most free.”

“Then it’s a good way for you to honor them too. Keep a small part of them alive and with you,” Ariana responded wistfully, “At least, that’s how I like to think of it. People we love will die and it hurts, but we never really lose the part of ourselves that loves them.” She watched the gentle way Macleod’s hands moved through the stems of the flowers and looped them together in an almost braid-like manner. She moved her own hands carefully to mirror her movements.The repetitive motions were peaceful. It was one of the many reasons she enjoyed woodwork. Her hands and the rest of her were never much good at staying still. The breeze carried the scent of flowers with it as they worked and she let it cloud her senses. “Definitely easier than hair,” she agreed quietly, “The only thing I’m good at doing with my hair is a ponytail. Even that is questionable some days.” The laugh that followed came easily and rang out through the otherwise quiet field. She let the soft sounds of flowers and branches swaying with the wind soothe her as the heavy feeling continued to dissipate. It finally completely registered that hers was the only heart beating. She continued her loops with just the soundtrack of forest sounds for a while longer before she finally said, “I can’t hear your heartbeat which means you aren’t human either, are you?”

There was a subtle shift in the girl’s presence, beckoning an equal change in Eilidh. Her pleasant smile was replaced with one more stern, tightened with that touch of concern. “My family’s the same.” She wasn’t sure if the apostrophe hid a was or an is. Both were true in her heart. As all things were regarding them, jumping between opposites. “Used to enjoy ‘em for just their piece of the wilds. ‘Til I saw ‘em as something whole.” That pleasant smile returned, as it always did when her thoughts became of trees and creatures that called them home. The one home she could always count on, even when the world had become a stranger. In between those strange, blinking lights, she could find those greens. No matter how small, and they certainly shrunk every cycle. “Aye. Is all a home that follows.” In many ways, like how it stepped into her mind. Nearly lost to that all, if she hadn’t already been acquainted. But in a blink, her eyes returned to knowing Ari. Returned back to death, and she knew it best of all. “True. They linger. In us. In memories. Or return as their new selves.” Her eyes began that search again, but found the same result. Nothing. “I see her in the butterflies.” It was only in sight. In moments of weakness, she had tried to reclaim Sky. But it would be cruel, when she wasn’t really Sky anymore. Their souls may come to know each other again and again, but the string that binded would never be the same. It was as dead as the body Sky left behind.

Eilidh’s hands did not forget the flowers in her moment of contemplation. But no mind was there to accommodate for novelties, and a stem bent instead of curved. Fingers traced along the blunt angle, relayed it back to her. It was then she looked down, but there was no disappointment. She enjoyed how it made the crown look lived in, despite just being born. The enjoyment found a new source, to that sudden laugh from Ari. Eilidh offered her own. “Cannae blame ya. Hair’s tricky. Thin n’ sticky.” The secret had been lost when she first attempted. Muscles still remembered, memories stolen from the woman that came before her. But they were just traces. Ones that were hard to follow, when her fingers couldn’t feel the separation of hair sections, and the mist in her mind made it hard to look at her reflection. Her stubbornness eventually made it second nature. She wanted to offer this wisdom, for the day was young and she was enjoying Ari’s company. But the subject shifted in a way that left her mind stumbling. “Hm.” Her curiosity corrected her course. “N’ you’re the sort that notices sucha thing.”  Her mind listed the possibilities she knew. Of those joined with her in the mist. And those who hunted such. And it was in that wondering that she leaned back. But not in alert, in readying. Was this all a trap? Except, that didn’t feel right. The hunters she knew would’ve already tried their hand. There was no telling tension in the girl’s eyes. Still, Eilidh huffed, “Which’re you?”

Ariana looked over the flowers and how they gently swayed in the wind. In this window of time, she felt grounded by their presence. The way they always sprouted to life again after months of cold, how even the harshest winters couldn’t take away their beauty. How no matter where she went, she could always count on their presence come spring. Dependable and fleeting all at once. She watched a bee bumble about from flower to flower and for that moment, grief and guilt felt a little further away. “I think you’re right, they’re whole all on their own,” she said as her fingers continued their weaving. There was something calming about the motions. The constant movement of her fingers and the concentration it required kept her in the moment. Not the past, not the future, not her troubling dreaming. Just there, in that glimpse of time. “A home that will always return,” she added wistfully. People could feel like home, but once they were gone, they were just gone. Memories of them never really faded, but the permanent absence was still felt as if there were some fundamental piece of her missing. The forest, the trees, the flowers– they were something she could always come back to, would always come back to. And it would always hold small pieces of those who were far gone. “Hm,” she started, “I feel my sister in the flowers and the smell of cinnamon. Alcher, I feel in the trees and the earth.”

Ariana decided she liked Macleod. The company had made her feel a little bit lighter, unexpectedly so. She had every intention of lying around for the afternoon and just being lost in her own tumultuous thoughts. Macleod’s voice also had a soothing quality. “Yeah, and it definitely wants to do it’s how thing.” She knew her question had been a bit invasive. Her whole life, she’d always had to listen and smell out a situation for safety. Still did, but at some point it just became a habit and maybe just a little bit of her own curiosity. Macleod seemed to contemplate her for a second, as if she was trying to figure out what Ariana was, too. Not that Ari could blame her. Being able to hear whether or not someone’s heart was beating when you were sitting next to them wasn’t something humans could just do. “I am the sort that notices such a thing,” she offered as her lips twitched into a small smile, “I’m a werewolf. Have been my whole life. And you’re a zombie.” She said it plainly, because it was just that. They were what they were. It wasn’t as if there was any big beef between zombies and werewolves. Which brought a random thought to mind. “Hey, how do you feel about meat pies? I make one with brain and shit ton of spice that a friend of mine used to like.”

Eilidh let out an agreeing hum. “Return as all things.” But never the same. The forests she had known in her travels held pieces of each other. Same twisted trunk, same whistling grass, same hungry eyes. But only in echoes. Repeats that were twisted and twisted and twisted until time made them unrecognizable. And yet the essence remained. Like a soul; like the souls now watching them. She looked to the flowers and the trees in acknowledgement, bowing her head in greeting. “Ath-bhreith shona.” Ari’s confirmation assured her suspicions. That the ones who were mourned were amongst them, but only in echoes, in those flowing greens. She wondered who were the honorary guests; the bloodroot flower or the ash tree? Or maybe their souls were split amongst the array. She wondered the same when she looked to the butterflies — to her Sky. Was she returned as the one, or the many?

A wondering that had no hope of prosperity, in that change of subject. One Eilidh wasn’t bothered by — beyond that wondering if Ari held knives that craved her flesh. But she seemed too pleasant for that. No, the bluntness was refreshing. She had no suspects for Ari’s nature, no tell that had her mind buzzing. Yet with the pretenses gone, their place in the mist affirmed, it made her tongue free for more words. Phrases she knew made humans shy and made good conversation. But before it could know any of them, it first knew a growl. That damning, marking word. Again and again and again. “Not a zombie.” She barked on instinct. Possessed by angers both present and gone, culminating into one sharp statement. She blinked rapidly. Remembering the gentleness of the girl, the crowns in their hands. Her own sporting a new bent from her passions, causing a few petals to break and return to the ground. Her grumbling was cut off with a cough. “Slúagh. Is which I am.” No fascination could be found from Ari’s own reveal. One that would’ve been, if the prickling from the incorrect assumption hadn’t gripped her. But then there were talks of pies. Of brains and spices. It put a curious twinkle in her gaze. “Amn’t sure. What kinda brains?”

It was hard to find peace in the ways she used to. With her mind and hands focused on a task, everything felt a little bit easier. Ari wanted to keep that feeling. She wanted to bottle it up and be able to feel the same fondness in the flowers that made her think of Celeste. Her sister deserved for her memory to be precious, not tainted with guilt. So why was it so hard to shake that feeling when she was alone? She believed all the pretty words Macleod said and when the wind tickled her nose with the smell of flowers, it even felt like some part of Celeste saying hello. It brought a faint smile to her face.

When Macleod corrected her use of the word zombie, Ari found her brows furrowed in confusion, but she listened. She replayed the sound in her mind a few times before she repeated, “Slúagh.” It came out choppy and she said it more slowly this time. “Slúagh. I like that, I’ve never heard it before,” she paused, “I’m sorry, I’ll remember that now. Slúagh.” After she said it a few times, she found she liked the way it felt. It was different, not ruined by crappy media that had no clue what the undead were really like. Somehow it fit Macleod more too. She looked like she belonged amongst the flowers and sunshine, not some crappy dark film set. There was a certain warmth there that made her want to bake that pie for her. “Oh, usually just whatever they have at the butcher, usually lamb. After the full moon, I’m able to do deer as well,” she explained, “I’ll make you one after the next full moon. I mean, only if you want. Just like to try and use all of the wildlife I end up hunting as a wolf.”

With that acceptance, Eilidh felt the claws of her tensions release. It wasn’t stripped away for good. It never was. Left behind an extra scratch on her, from that repeated assumption. But one that was remedied more readily in the present years. The people of White Crest continuously surprised her. She usually existed on a pendulum. Of people refusing to believe because of their refusal to see a world beyond humanity, or from a refusal to let go of the word zombie. Rarely settling in that comfortable middle. “Is alright. We’re a rare sort.” A statement that was typically left at just that. Simplicity. Others weren’t owed the complexities of her persons. But nature and her kin always made her the more talkative type. And Ari had proven she was more accepting than most, whose presence was as pleasant as those flowers. Both her hands went to their respected cheek, wiggling as if her face grew tentacles. Her voice dropped a few octaves and gained a growl. “An eater of souls.” While chuckling at her own performance, her hands settled back into her lap.

Those old wounds were entirely forgotten, antiquity had a knack for such, at the mention of meat. “Deer.” The delight was clear in Eilidh’s voice. She missed the days when she had it regularly. Back when she ran with a pack of her own, similar to the one she assumed Ari did. Difference being hers was trapped in the past. She was a hunter, and hunt she did, but there were days she felt far from the word. While her palms still filled with fresh blood, the present liked to force her to settle. To scavenge; to let strangers kill her meals for a buck. At least, the days she bothered to give that buck. But Ari felt less a stranger the longer they weaved together. And she knew the heart of a predator beat in her chest, too. It felt less a transaction and more a sharing of a meal. “Be fine with any bits. I chew on all sorts.” She looked up and saw the moon staring back. Impatient for her turn in the sky, sharing it with the sun. “After you’re nice ‘n plump.” Her gaze went back to Ari. “Is a date. Got a phone?”

The giggle that followed the explanation and the funny tentacle face rang through the breeze. It was a foreign feeling, one Ari had forgotten. The simple joy of just existing among the flowers and laughing while making flowery hairdos. In her mind, she could hear a whisper of Celeste’s laughter following with hers. It was a sound she missed more than anything so she drank it in and smiled at Macleod. This was a good bit of time stolen from grief. “Very spooky,” she commented with a smile that actually made its way to her eyes, “Slúagh. I’ll remember that.”

It’d be nice to have someone else to make things for. Back when things were simple, Ari would often make stuff like this for Morgan. All the recipes lived in her head with no outlet and now she had a reason to use them again. She smiled, “Good, I’ve got a few recipes up my sleeve. Always best when the meat is fresh too.” As she thread the last flower, she looked at her creation. She imagined it was bright and colorful though she had no true concept of that. There were varying shades of blues, yellows, and browns in her world, but it was beautiful all the same and had a soft scent to it. “I think I’ll have to make one of these every spring,” she said as she pulled her phone out of the backpack sitting next to her, “And I do have a phone. Longest I’ve gone without breaking one, actually.” She opened up her contacts to create a new one and handed it to Macleod. “If you put your number in there, I can send you a text so I can see you after the next moon.”

“Appreciated.” Eilidh returned the smile. Once more a reflection and a satisfaction. There was hardly a tell sorrow had touched the girl, except for the redness receding from her eyes. Kin to the ones that had retreated in Eilidh’s mind. Back to the nagging whispers they ought to be, for their worries spoke of the past. One that would repeat, reverberating against the path of Fate, but not just yet. Her present only knew of laughter and flowers, leaving those whispers no room. When the laugh settled into a chuckle, the flowers took importance. She looked, really looked, to her creation for the first time. Beaten by her fit of passion, but still beautiful. Those swirls of blue petals within green stems like a river rushing through. Those pops of orange and yellow like the sun reflected on the waters. Red usually held dominance, but her peripherals told her those were those sickly fruits. Made her hands skip over them entirely. A difference that didn’t deter her excitement, as she placed the crown where it belonged. She wiggled her head, making the crown to bounce along, turning it into a dueted dance.

Eilidh saw her delight was mirrored. Since her own had been properly inspected, her eyes fixated on Ari’s makings. A rainbow ripped from the sky — fitting in a hand and soon a head. She nodded in approval, giving one clap to emphasize the feeling. “Eh? Why just the one?” Question spoken in jest, asking for no real answer. Besides, her true question had a response. “Aye. Ya think they’d make these things more sturdy like. With how the world spins ‘round ‘em now.” The phone exchanged hands, but her own hesitated for a moment. Merely left her staring. An attempt to collect her thoughts, and hopefully her current phone number with them. There were many broken screens in her closet. She typed out a possibility, and just as quickly deleted it. No no no. Not that one. Her fingers tried another, and with a nod, she confirmed it was probably true. They would find out soon enough. “Be looking forward to it. Is not often I get a cooked meal. Or an eat with others.” The phone went back to its owner. But before her hands retreated, they settled onto Ari’s own. “N’ if ya ever feel in a flower mood. Send a text, too. ‘Tis the season.”

[writingonesdreams]

You know how there is this advice for creating new characters through developing your favourite character archetype?

I'm thinking maybe what's so difficult about writing Zephyr is that I'm basically switching to a completely different one. Cole, Kyler, Kaden, even Alistair were a very similar kind of heroes - sure they developed into their own people depending on the story - but they were all stoic, cold, secretly altruistic, hard-working often self-hating or bitter martyrs who had probelms opening up to people and dropping their defenses. This is the kind of hero I gravitate to in reading too - from Sasuke, Kiritsugu, Kogami, Yumei, Abe, Elijah, Sarkan etc - so ofc they would show up in my writing too. There are other archetypes I like, from the angry big guy looking for motivation, the cheerful schemer (aka Wes), the friendly but explosive, the prideful but inspiring, the analytical perfectionalist who is super bossy about how he cares...but Kyler's cold always was in the lead. For years.

Zephyr and by extension Raymond is a completely new kind of guy. I'm in unexplored waters, which is part of the excitement...but I also don't have a core character to base him on, which trips me up a bit. And going with my current inspirations is intense, but very short-lived since that changes a lot.

So yeah. Zephyr changes a lot. He is too perfect one day, then just the perfect mix of a flat character arc defending his ideals, the next he has a change arc that makes him into that ideal, but I can't settle in a character flaw I would accept and love for him. In a way all my characters are rounded up through these contradictions, imperfections that trip them up and need to be worked on, but that are also endearing and make the characters feel authentic. I love that Skye is so shy and meek looking but actually boils with arrogance and revulsion. I love that Knox is passive and selfish, playful and bitter and reconsidering his loyalties. I like that Vincent is an entitled, authoritative little shit, but has the noblest intentions from the cast.

But Zephyr? I want him to be someone who stands up against injustice, but also someone who can get along with people. Who rebels against the system according to his own code of morality, but also feels like he should be heroic to give his life meaning. Someone who is at the core curious and carefree and just wants to love life, but is convinced that is a selfish and wrong thing to desire. Someone who thinks that not ackowldgeing being hurt and keeping up the cheerful act is the ultimate solution, that admitting to pain would make him lose against the world. Above that Zeph is clever, charismatic, cunning, honest in a friendly way, and he feels pivotal to the story to work, but also unstable and blurry, like I can't quite hold on to him and I don't know what to do with that. I don't want him to have the logical flaws that come as downsides of his strenghts (like impulsive shortsightness and scattered tendencies or sensitivity to pressure).

I don't want him to be flawed, although it's what I know to make characters real, and it's confusing as heck. Any tips anybody lol.