#monster tidbits | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thepenultimateword · 1 year ago

Text

Old Bones Part 7

Surprise, Vampire has a name now. It was feeling weird having one character named and the other not.

CW: Blood, death mention

Floryn took a long drag from their canteen, the spiced rabbit's blood settling thick and warm in the hollow of their stomach. Lav had insisted on preparing a fresh pot before they headed out into the snow, and while they'd argued against it at the time, Floryn was glad to have something to combat the chill.

They curled their toes in their boots, ignoring the blend of soreness and numbness that riddled their muscles. The violent thunk thunk thunk of their heart against their ribcage was harder to pretend away. They'd lived in this wood their entire life. First in Bellwatch, a village hacked into the south edge where the earth was fertile, like a scar in the tree line. The walls backed against the Wildern, the land untamed and unwanted, and the watchmen stood eternally atop the stone, watching the endless long grass and shadowed hills for danger. A simple place for a simple life. Until that vampire climbed the wall and killed them.

Then they'd ran. No sooner had they dragged themself from the grave, and they were skirting past the drawn and burned-out body of their sire and disappearing into the dark wood.

The larger, more populated Bellbreak had no walls. No guards at the border. It sat in the middle of a glen, untouched by the Wildern's claws. Floryn simply slipped into the crowd and disappeared. But now...well this was all different. Bellbreak had been a well-acquainted idea. The world beyond on the other hand was a deep, dark unknown.

Floryn readjusted the strap of their bag as it dug into their shoulder. "Can I come up there yet?"

"Just a couple miles more," Lav replied from several strides ahead. They had insisted on scouting a few feet ahead, kicking snow over any rice piles, or walking broad arcs around iron traps.

"You've been saying that for last ten. I'm getting tired of looking at the back of your head."

Floryn wasn't entirely convinced that that wasn't part of Lav's goal. Despite the positive ending to trauma of the last several hours, they hadn't faced them head-on more than maybe twice.

"Besides you haven't come across anything in two hours, and I don't think the townsfolk would've come this far anyway, so..." Floryn darted up to Lav's side. Lav grunted mildly, a sound of mixed disapproval and assent. Floryn snuck a peak up at Lav's new face, the square jaw clenched tight and russet brows furrowed.

"I didn't expect to get out this far so fast," Floryn said idly. "I guess you don't tire out so quickly when you're dead."

"Mm."

"I didn't notice before because I've always been running. No time to think. But it's nice going at our own pace, huh?"

"Mm."

Floryn pursed their lips, kicking a spray of snow into the air in front of them. The snow crystals settled back down against the drifts as if it never happened, the only evidence being a pit of powder that had floated back against Floryn's knees. They sighed quietly, and their gaze flicked to Lav's hand, swinging at their side. Large. Calloused. Flushed from the cold.

Floryn dug the point of their fang into their bottom lip, worrying it a moment so the underside filled with bland blood. It was still strange seeing the roughened digits in place of their old slender fingers. The more they looked the more their stomach churned, but that might've been the fault of what they were thinking about doing.

Slowly, slowly, their fingers outstretched, a hand length away, a finger, half a finger. Their knuckles bumped into the meaty palm, pinky twining around Lav's little finger.

Lav reeled back as if bit, jerking their hand against their breast and whirling on Floryn with wide, startled eyes.

Floryn blinked in dumb shock, a lukewarm blush rising to their cheeks. For a moment their throat squeezed too tight to get out a word, but eventually, they managed a choked, "Sorry."

Lav's face contorted into even harsher panic.

"No!" They thrust out their hands in front of them. "You didn't do anything wrong! I wasn't...I'm not..." Their fists clenched. "I'm feeling strange. New body. You knowing. I don't...I don't think it's a good idea to get too close. At least not so soon."

"Oh." Floryn wet their already-closing wound. "Right. Of course."

"It has nothing to do with you," Lav said, forcing their avoidant eyes up for a full second. Something dark briefly swam through the yellow pools. A lie.

"No, yeah, I know that." Floryn turned brusquely forward. "I just thought maybe you wanted...after everything...but I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's okay."

"Mm." Floryn pinned their lips together. Stupid. So stupid. Lav never said they wanted anything other than companionship. The reading, the care, the protection. You could do all of that for a friend. In any case, after everything they'd gone through that night, flirtation was probably the last thing on their mind, and Floryn had selfishly pushed it. Even more selfish was the fact that they were still scared of the new body. Maybe they'd thought acting close would help them accept it faster, help them focus on the parts of Lav they still clearly saw inside. But it could've just as easily made the situation worse.

"There's an inn a half mile from here," Lav said, breaking the quiet.

"A town?"

"No. The nearest settlement is Mudfield. About half a day away still. This a roadside inn. A business that relies on the patronage of lots of travelers who would rather not camp. Good for us since the sun is about to come up."

Floryn looked up through the gaps in the foliage. The long red fingers of dawn streaked the sky; they clutched their cloak a little closer.

"Let's go a little faster," Lav said, voice calm and smooth.

Floryn nodded.

It wasn’t long before the Inn came into view. It was larger than the cabin but not quite as large as what they’d always imagined in books. The thatching looked like birds had been tugging at it, loose twigs and straw sticky out at odd angles, and as they stepped up onto the porch the wood sagged and groaned under their feet.

A mixture pine needles, ale, and smoke floated on the air as they eased the door open. The room was filled with filled with barstools and tables, but they all sat empty. The best sign of life was a smear of something sticky on the bar counter.

“Oi! Trevon!”

Floryn turned toward the back of a room. A chestnut haired woman in a red apron swept at the floor under the tables like the world depended on it.

A low grumble quickly drew their attention back to the bar where was a broad, mustached man was stepping out of the back room.

“Early guests, eh?” He rubbed his hand down his eyes and into his mustache. “What can I do for yous?”

Floryn took a little step closer, opened their mouth, and…

Nothing came out.

They almost choked on the empty air. A hot feeling shooting from head to toes, liquifying the bones in their legs, and clenching their insides into a thousand tiny knots. The innkeeper narrowed his eyes. Did Floryn look like they were about to faint or did he know?

Suddenly Lav’s hand was on their shoulder, casually pushing them behind so they could step right up to the bar.

“Excuse the early hour,” they said, as honey smooth as the day they’d met. “Usually we wouldn’t impose at such an inopportune hour, but we’ve been traveling all night and hoped we could trouble you for a couple of rooms.”

The innkeeper stared at Lav for a moment, as if sensing the wrongness in him. But eventually he waved his hand flippantly. “We’re up this early every day. Got to get ahead of the tenants, eh?” He propped his elbows on the counter with a large yawn. “I only got one room. 15 coppers by the night. Will that do?”

“Perfect,” Lav said. They rustled in their deep coat pocket, producing a handful of small copper coins. Where they got the money after years in seclusion, Floryn didn't know. Maybe scoured off all the dead bodies and robbed graves.

The innkeeper scraped the coins into their hand and disappeared into the back. He returned a few moments later with a little silver key. "Room 8. Anything else?" he said, sliding it across the counter. "I can have Marri whip you up a hot breakfast."

From the glare Marri shot across the room, Floryn wouldn't have accepted the offer even if they could eat.

"Very gracious of you," Lav said. "But after a full night of traveling, the room is quite enough. Just up the stairs is it?"

"Even numbers on the right," the innkeeper confirmed.

"Very good." Lav's hand landed on the middle of Floryn's back, guiding them to the narrow staircase. The steps creaked and when they reached the hall it took some squinting to make out the half-rubbed numbers chalked on the doors.

Lav's hand slid away to unlock the door, leaving the spot on Floryn's spine tingling and empty.

Lav crossed the room in a few quick strides, yanking the curtains closed on the pool of sun spreading across the floor.

"If you're cold I'll light a--" They cut off mid-turn, only then noticing what Floryn had noticed immediately. Maybe they should be flattered Lav's first thought had been to keep them out of the sun, but the delayed reaction was somehow even worse than realizing their predicament simultaneously.

The single bed sat in the middle of the room, ropes hanging a little too loosely so that the straw mattress just brushed the floor. The bed hangings had also seen better days, motheaten and sustained from cream to light yellow--though to be fair, bed hangings in general were an unexpected luxury for this place. At the very least, the bed was full-sized; they wouldn't be pressed back to back.

Floryn shivered inappropriately at the mental image before brusquely shoving it away. A quick glance around the room revealed no other furnishings but a nightstand with a half-melted candle on one side of the bed and a chair and table, set with a pitcher and washbasin, on the other.

Lav cleared their throat uncomfortably. "I suppose the number of beds to a room was never specified."

"Well," Floryn said, trying to sound unbothered. "A bed is a bed." They slid their bag to the floor and plopped down on one end. "Can't complain there."

Lav nodded. "It's been a long night. You should rest." They dropped their own pack, quickly sifting out a blanket roll and spreading it out on the floor.

"We should rest," Floryn corrected. "Don't act as if you haven't had a long night too." They patted the space beside them.

"I'll be just fine by the hearth."

"I don't mind sharing."

"It's too much."

"For who?" Floryn said. "You never had a problem dozing off on the sofa. It's basically the same thing."

"It's different. And this body, what I am, all of it..."

"So? I can judge my discomfort myself, thank you. I'm fine." They met Lav's gaze head-on. "Unless I make you uncomfortable. In which case, we should flip a coin for the bed."

Lav clenched their teeth, rotating their jaw a couple times as their yellow eyes flicked from Floryn's face to the empty side of the bed, to the door. "You are so stubborn," they finally said, crossing the room and kicking off their shoes before sliding beneath the bedcovers. The mattress sank deeper towards the floor, but Floryn closed the bed hangings and crawled underneath the covers without comment. Despite their shoddy material, the hangings did make a cozy space. Even better because they blocked out any light that might have passed through the window curtains. The only downside was it made the bed feel narrower. A small but significant gap kept their and Lav's shoulders just short of brushing.

"You know you're making my gallant attempts at consideration very difficult," Lav said.

Floryn rolled toward them. "What do you mean?"

Lav matched Floryn's movement by turning onto their side, eyes glowing catlike in the shadows. "You do make me uncomfortable."

"Oh."

"Not because I don't like being near you," Lav said. "Because I don't deserve to be. I'm wearing the body of your attacker, I constantly make you afraid, and I'm a monster."

Floryn raised their hand to their cheek, eliciting a small shock. "Honey, you've never met a real monster."

Lav scoffed but didn't move away. "What am I then?"

They stroked a crooked finger down the ghoul's cheekbone "Yes, you're a monster in the traditional sense. So am I." Their other hand pressed to Lav's chest, the faux warmth of their skin soaking into their chilly fingertips. "But not in in here. Not where it counts. You don't have to be a ghoul or a vampire to be monstrous inside." The ragged rhythm of their heart beat into Floryn's palm, steadily picking up speed. "Maybe you have met monsters--the townspeople who sacrificed you, the people who chased you away from a normal life, my hunters--but don't think for one second you’re one of them."

Warm tears pricked Floryn's thumb, and suddenly, a pair of muscled arms wrapped around them. The air fled their lungs all at once and refused to be drawn back in.

"I care about you, Flor," Lav mumured into their neck. "My dear. My darling. My love."

"I love--" Floryn caught themselves, violently clearing their throat and bowing their face into Lav's curls. "I care about you too."

This ghoul was going to be the death of them. What did they mean saying "I care" and "My love" in the same breath? Their heart had already been stopped by an undead once, they didn't need a second demonstration.

Against their better wishes, they slid out of the embrace first.

"We should sleep. We need to put more distance between us and BellBreak before we can really relax."

"Rest," Lav murmured. "I can stay up if you're worried."

"Don't get noble. I worry about you too you know." They flopped the other direction. "If I wake up in a few hours and find out you didn't sleep, I'm going to be mad."

Lav chuckled. "Understood."

The covers rustled as they settled down deeper into the bed. The warmth of their presence tickled Floryn's back even from across the gap, but strangely, they weren't quite so anxious now. Perhaps they were simply to tired to worry anymore because sleep hit hard and fast. Seconds after closing their eyes they were engulfed in dark, dreamless sleep--a gift after so much nightmare fuel had been tossed their way today.

When Floryn woke next, the gap no longer existed.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat@ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindonessy @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @kurai-hono-blog

78 notes · View notes

theyjusthowl · 2 months ago

Text

Tidbit Tuesday for my sterek fic of doom

Have I been absent for three weeks? Why yes thanks for asking I'm loving working on my master's thesis on why representation on TV matters and being mean on Twitter is bad.

Incidentally, I cannot stress how badly I need a beta reader to bounce ideas around please message me I'm nice and totally normal about Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.

There is a witch in the woods and, much like many other creatures drawn to Beacon Hills, she’s parched with a thirst can only be quenched through pain. She comes from a distant life she barely remembers, other than the rotten florals that follow her, so she hides in the evergreen.

Nobody knows this, but there is a witch in the woods. There has been, for quite some time now, trapped and desperate to find a vessel. It has to be perfect. It has to be someone, but it can't be anyone. She must be patient and find the perfect person, one that would go to the greatest lengths, who would trade a life for a life for a life.

It has to be perfect. She won't have it any other way.

At first, because this liminal space she inhabits is familiar in ways she cannot recall, almost out of a vision, known to someone else in some other time, she waits, she gets acquainted with everything that makes up the forest and the town and the bleeding sky in the heat of summer.

Eventually, she dips her feet in this strange place called Beacon Hills, roaming but never free, and she hides, carried in the crackling of dried leaves on a clear day. She glimmers in the cold waters of the lake, rippling and reveling in the soft waves that break the stillness of the surface. She simmers in the tarmac, under the roaring traffic, and hums inside the pipelines of the buildings downtown, and creaks along the wooden staircases of old Victorian homes and rustles through the gardens of the neat little rows of suburban white picket fence houses.

She waits. She listens and she sees, and she bides her time. She lurks around the graveyard, and she runs with the winds around the ruins of the Hale house after the fire dies down, howling mischievously to lure the wolves that used to run in the woods. She wails with the sirens on patrol cars, and she slithers under the hospital doors, hovering over the skin and bones of a battered, sleeping dog.

It must have been years, spent rotting away in the depths of her isolation, when the forest starts convulsing around her. There is a rogue wolf circling her territory. There is another, and then another, and another one. It doesn't stop. The hospital room is empty now and there's a corpse, but no other ghosts to keep her company among the trees. There is new blood and old blood, blood that awakens something primal in the woods, something hot white at the doors that separate this realm from others, something that pushes her and whispers in her ear that her time has come.

So she wakes. She wakes and she lies underwater, in the creek, carried away by the first rains of the season, biding her time, until the crisp autumn leaves start crunching under the trodden sneakers of the young and unaware. The wind is picking up and the sky is slowly bruising away into a clear sunset, and there are wolves but it's not quite right.

No, it's not right. It's not the wolves that have her squirming in the confines of her shapeless lifeform. It's not the wolves. So then it must be the boy. The boy. The boy, who steps on a pile of browning foliage and mud and falls flat on the loose soil around him, near the edge of the cold stream, hands scrabbling around clumsily.

A rock slides and drops into the water. The lazily swirling currents set in motion a tiny ripple that reaches beyond the blurry confines of the riverbed, lapping at the muddy bank and splashing away mischievously. The water takes hold, soaking through the thin, well worn material of his jacket. The wolves have dismissed him, but she hasn't.

She knows, it is him. A life, for a life, for a life. The boy, the wolf, the witch.

There is a creature, for lack of a better word, a presence that might be a fae, a ghoul, a spirit, a shadow that creeps and preys on the tiniest wisp of hope and sanity she can find.

There is a witch in the woods.

She learns, she plots, she waits. She finds the perfect vessel.

And then, she shows her hand.

#teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #derek hale x stiles stilinski #nothing's happening just yet #introducing monster of the week #i guess it's a major plot point though #magic made them fall in love #sort of #it backfired terribly for the poor witch she just wanted out but stiles is one tough cookie #tidbit tuesday #current wip #sterek wip

14 notes · View notes