#she was skinned while a wolf and a woman came out. so. i guess that counts as dismemberment?

[yael-art-den]

Learning local folklore while living on a legally Christian country is wild because 99% of the things I've been reading are "this place used to be used for celebration of local beliefs and legends until que Christian Church™ came around and decided they were pagans. Everything is destroyed now XOXO"

[princessbellecerise]

You Kiss Their Scars

Summary ✩ How your lover reacts to you kissing their scars

Warnings ✩ Mentions of violence and blood

Jacaerys Velaryon

You were amused as your lips pressed against the teeth shaped scars, in the shape of tiny little bite marks that Jace explained were from Vermax

“He used to bite me plenty when we shared a crib,” Your husband told you. “He was a nasty little thing. Mother was afraid he’d take a chunk out of my arm—but he never did. He stopped doing it when I bit him back,” He revealed

You giggled as you imagined baby Jace and baby Vermax—both the same size at one point—going at it while Rhaenyra tried to separate them. “So I suppose you’ve both always been temperamental then,” You said

It was no surprise that your husband, who also had quite the temper, related so much to his dragon. The two were one of the same, and you guessed that’s why they got along so well

“Yes,” Jacaerys agreed, a fond smile on his face as he recalled the memories. “We were quite a menacing pair indeed.”

Aegon Targaryen

“She did it again,” Is the only thing Aegon had to tell you in order for you to pull him into your arms, kissing the spot where a nasty red bruise was forming

It was no secret that your husband and his mother did not get along, but never did you think that she would have the audacity to strike him after an argument

It was appalling to you every time it happened, and you wanted nothing more than to march towards her and give the same treatment, Queen be damned

It wasn’t fair that she took out her anger out on Aegon but he begged you, no pleaded with you to not do anything

“It won’t do any good,” He’d tell you sadly, and your heart would ache as you saw the brokenness, the sadness on his face. “She’ll just hate me even more if you act.”

Aemond Targaryen

“Hold still.”

You jutted your tounge out in concentration as you cleaned Aemond’s scar, making sure that it was sanitized properly for the day

Your husband trusting you with such a thing was an act of love itself. The fact that he trusted you to see his deepest insecurity meant alot to you, and all you could do to repay him and hopefully bring up his spirits was pepper light kisses on the skin surrounding it

“There, all done.”

“Thank you, my love,” Aemond smiled slightly as he touched the spots were your lips touched, still wondering how he got so lucky as to find someone like you

Cregan Stark

“Ow! Be gentle, woman,” Cregan said playfully, wincing as you brushed over his ‘scar’ with a wet cloth

Somehow, for some reason, your dear husband thought it would be funny to wrestle with his dire wolf and then he had the nerve to come crawling to you, asking you to patch up his wounds after the beast had bitten him

Of course, it wasn’t really that big of a deal and Cregan wasn’t really hurt, but you still smirked as you pressed a kiss to it like it was a real wound

“There. That should ease some of the pain, you big baby,” You teased, rolling your eyes

Cregan chuckled as he checked your work, looking at the bandage you had placed over some ointment

“What do you suppose it’ll look like when it heals?” He asked you seriously

“It’ll look like you simply have a freckle, Creagn,” You responded sarcastically, and then you giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap

“Don’t make fun me, wife. You should be proud,” He said, flexing the arm where the bite was. “How many men do you know have taken on such a beast and lived to tell the tale?”

“Only you, husband. Only you.” You snorted at his dramatics, wondering just what you were going to do with your silly, drama queen of a husband

Benjicot Blackwood

There was reason they called your husband ‘Bloody Ben’

You found this out when one day, he came limping home after solving a conflict in the Riverlands, covered in wounds and blood—so much blood

Thankfully, most of it wasn’t his but Benji still did have a few wounds that needed looking after

The Maester was busy, having been sent by your husband to tend to the other men, so you got the pleasure of dragging him to your chambers, making sure that he was clean before you began to stitch him up

The entire time you worked, Benji barely even flinched which amazed you

By the time that you were done with his top half, he’d barely said a word or complained which led to you kissing over a few of his stitches as a reward

“What was that for?” He asked in wonder, a small blush on his cheeks while you grinned

“That, my love, is for being such a good patient,” You told him cheekily, and you did not expect what Benji did next

Standing up, he loosened his trousers and then he grinned as he pointed at the area beneath his small clothes

“Well in that case, I’ll need plenty of kisses here, too. No promises that I won’t move if you touch me there though.”

“Benji!”

[emiko-matsui]

Can't you hear that scratching? There's something at the door. The wind has picked us up now and we're hanging in the air as you grip me like an animal that you're about to spear. "Be good to me," I whisper. You say "What?" and I say "Nothing, dear." // I make shipwrecks out of my dress and the door below it splinters and the creature creeps inside. We fall into each other and the scratching grows so loud because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out.

I've never seen a diamond in the flesh, I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies, and I'm not proud of my address, in this torn up town there's no postcode envy. But every song is like gold teeth, grey goose, tripping in the bathroom, blood stains, ball gowns, trashing the hotel rooms.

Take me away into the night, out of the hum of the streetlights and into the forest. I'll do whatever you say to me in the dark, scared I'll be torn apart by a wolf in a mask of a familiar name.

If you go out beyond those trees your palms will sweat, you'll nock your knees, and the creatures you'll encounter there will gobble you up for good. There's dangers lurking just outside, but no need to be terrified, this simple advice can be applied: never go into the woods! Wolves and bears will eat you there—they'll drag you to their den.

This town is dying—why are they like this? God keeps on lying and they try to hide it. They're setting fire to the churches tonight, the shadows dance on the wall waiting for the answers to their call.

I ate dinner with beasts, crinkled hands, and red cheeks looking at my body like it's food. // Burn the witch alive, drink our dirty water, be prepared for the Mississippi slaughter.

Blood was spilt along this road and you cannot wash it white with snow. Everything here is built on bones. // Visions you don't want to see, hide your face from prophecy. A soldier not from woman born will come for you, you have been warned.

To all things housed in her silence nature offers a violence. The bear that keeps to his own line, the wolf that seeks his own kind. // The ground walked here is a wonder. It never ceases to hunger. All things nature has given she takes back from the living.

Come and get some, skinning the children for a war drum put in the front of the table selling bombs and guns. It's quicker and easier to eat your young. // It's a kindness, highness, crumbs enough for everyone. Old and young are welcome to the meal. Honey, I'm making sure the table's done.

Now I'm considered ugly from every angle, you're the only beauty I don't want to strangle. Can't you hear me crying out for guidance? // There's no sympathetic victims anywhere. There's blood in my hair.

Oh, girl, your story's all wrong and your dream will be a nightmare before too long. // When the sirens wailed and the bombs fell we ran from the schoolyard and into hell, and what we could've been time will never tell.

You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes, you who bares all your teeth in every smile. He says, "I can always hear you sing, I wanna hear you speak to me," while a stranger braids my hair back out on the streets. // As sharp and serious as a pistol in the eye, my heart is full of swords.

Marrow made a wife of Eve, but no one gave up a rib for me or mine. My heart did expose to the elements calloused and untouched by man's design. Oh, my ugly organs... // The dark doesn't frighten me, I chose to close my eyes. It is mine, it is mine.

Embarrassed by her anger she slept amidst the rocks and as dreamland came to take her it seemed the moon began to talk. It said, "Oh, my little nothing, I am jealous of your voice for though the tides obey my orders, know my orders aren't my choice."

I don't want your half-baked sympathy. When did it save those in need? Still, I thought that angels did exist, but now I hope they plan to end it quick because Friday is black for me. Only my ashes will see the sea.

Which wolf wins? I guess it really depends, you just gotta wait and see which one's appetite is the biggest. Turns out I'm living in a horror film where I'm both the killer and the final girl. // Everyone is a bad guy and there's no way to know who's the worst. Karma's gonna come for all of us and I hope, I hope, I just hope she comes for you first.

You know how folks are afraid of the wolf? If you really stop and think, throughout time, between a wolf and a shepherd, who do you think has killed more sheep?

Please picture me in the weeds before I learned civility, I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted. // Though I can't recall your face I've still got love for you. Pack your dolls and a sweater, we'll move to India forever. Passed down like folk songs, our love lasts so long...

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. I know it's true that visions are seldom what they seem, but if I know you I know what you'll do—you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

Once I was lost in the woods. I saw a girl in a hood and she told me I should stick to the path, wolves will plot behind your back. // Soon she was out of my sight, her red hood a phantom in the night, and that's when I saw the wolves appear (but they filled me with ease and not with fear). So I went into the night shedding the skin of my old life as I got deeper and deeper within (and I howled at the moon and at the wind).

ylfa snorgelsson | farewell wanderlust, the amazing devil // royals, lorde // candles, daughter // never go into the woods, the cog is dead // everyone's dying (grandma's drunk again), roe kapara // us and pigs, isella // built on bones, emily scott robinson // blood in the snow, hozier // eat your young, hozier // we will commit wolf murder, of montreal // grandmother song, vienna teng // dear arkansas daughter, lady lamb // ribs, the crane wives // oh my little nothing, kyle stibbs // black friday, angela giarratana // you first, paramore // the saint of lost causes, justin townes earle // seven, taylor swift // once upon a dream, lana del rey // lost in the woods, honey magpie

[ssukidesu]

his happiness

Fandom: Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairy Tale

Pairing: Inukag

Rating: T

Inukag Week 2024 - Day 6: Sacrifice

Summary: (Sequel to day 5) Sango spies a suspicious mark on Kagome's neck, and conversations get a little uncomfortable after that.

Read on AO3

Read below the cut

Kagome released a pent-up sigh at the sensation of the warm water caressing her skin up to her neck. Sango, a few feet away, made a similar noise, and the two women giggled at their synchronized relaxation.

“This is nice,” the older woman said. “How long has it been—a month? I was getting tired of the chilly river.”

Kagome hummed. She felt a little guilty about it, as she’d benefited from the luxury of her own bathtub about two weeks prior—but her sentiment was still just as strong.

It was a little place tucked away from any roads or villages, about a stone’s throw from their last shard-related battle. It wasn’t too difficult of a fight, but it was a salamander demon who’d alternated between spitting fire and throwing mud at them. No one got terribly dirty, but it was bad enough to warrant a good, relaxing soak. While the sun was still up, the spring was theirs; the boys would take it after nightfall.

Kagome reclined her head against the stone behind them, recalling something Inuyasha had mumbled to her before they’d left.

Go get that wolf’s scent off of you. I can still smell it from yesterday.

Well, he had certainly seemed a little different since the previous evening—not that today had been the most advantageous for any sort of… rediscussion. At the very least, he’d taken a couple of liberties that made it very clear he was going to honor her request.

Don’t be such a stranger from now on.

Well, as for the first thing he did that morning in obedience to her request, he’d planted himself right behind her during breakfast and sprawled a leg out to corral her petite frame. Her back was all but pressed to his front, and, to her relief, the others kept their observations to themselves.

The second thing came soon after they broke camp; when it was time to set out, Inuyasha gripped the undersides of her thighs a little more… blatantly than he ever had; typically, he turned his hands so that his palms pointed outward and linked his fingers together to support her weight with minimal invasiveness. But this time, his palms and fingers came flush with her skin, right on the meat of her hamstrings. He must have heard her heart rate take up a violent pace, as he tilted his head to inspect her for any sign of concern. Their eyes met, and a shadow of self-consciousness began to invade his eyes—so she did the first thing that came to mind to reassure him: she tightened her hold around his neck, buried her face in his back, and muttered, “Hurry up, or we’ll get left behind.”

Sango interrupted Kagome’s musings: “Say, what’s that on your neck?”

She hoped Sango would interpret the immediate flush to her cheeks as only a result of the hot water.

And that brought her to the third liberty he’d taken: around lunch, when they’d stopped to eat at the place that would not ten minutes later turn into a battleground, Inuyasha had offered to scope out the area (he’d sensed there might have been a demon nearby). Before he left, and as Miroku, Sango, and Shippo were busy building a quick fire and throwing together a meal, Inuyasha took full advantage of the ponytail that was keeping Kagome’s hair off her neck, and gave her a not-so-gentle kiss there. He’d known to simultaneously smother her mouth with his hand—as she did emit quite the squeak at the sensation. It started as a kiss, then morphed into a firm suck, and then ended in one sharp nip. 

She wasn’t sure if he’d meant to draw a little blood—in fact, if she had to guess, his immediate wince and encore of another soft kiss was likely meant as an embarrassed apology. It hardly broke the skin, and it wasn’t bad enough to bleed any more than the initial puncture would draw to the surface, but it sealed her fate: there would be a mark. And it had all happened in less than ten seconds.

Well, Kagome couldn’t blame Sango for asking about it now; it was on full display due to her forgetfulness. 

Nonetheless, her fingers shot up to cover it, and the panicked expression likely didn’t help her case, either.

Sanyo’s eyes grew wide.

“Is that—!”

“Shhh!” Kagome lunged to cover Sango’s mouth with both hands, as their camp was hardly over the tree line, and a shout would likely be heard by Inuyasha and Shippo, at least.

Sango seemed to remember this a second later, and when she spoke again, it was in a shrill whisper: “Is that from Inuyasha?”

Kagome cringed, bringing her hands to cradle her own crimson face. 

“Surely it’s not from Kouga?!”

“No!” Kagome hissed in offense. “…It was Inuyasha.”

Sango proceeded to make a myriad of various conflicting expressions, some of shock, others of excitement, and still others of confusion and frustration.

Kagome sighed, urging her nerves to subside. “It was from earlier today.”

“When?!” 

“Does it matter?” Kagome cried, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to shift somewhere else. “We—we’re just…”

“Keeping secrets, that’s what!” Sango scolded, utterly scandalized.

“No, we’re not! Sango, this just started—we haven’t even talked about it since everything happened yesterday…”

“Yesterday?!” she yelled, and Kagome smacked her hands back over Sango’s mouth.

She returned their tones to a whisper. “Yes, yesterday. But please don’t act any different—I don’t even understand what’s happening, and I really don’t think he wants anyone else involved…”

She scoffed. “Of course he doesn’t. The idiot…”

Kagome couldn’t help but giggle at her tone, which was increasingly growing to that of an older sister.

Sango cleared her throat in an effort to compose herself, then she continued: “So, what? Are you two together now? What about…” As she trailed off, her expression froze, and she gave Kagome a rueful look, as if apologizing for something she didn’t even say.

“What about what?” Kagome pressed fearfully.

“You know…” she tried, but Kagome’s persistent silence forced her to spit it out. “What about Kikyo?”

Kagome flinched at the name. Admittedly, she hadn’t even thought about the priestess since yesterday’s events—and she wondered how such an important thing could slip through the cracks of her mind.

“Um, well…” she began, wringing her hands under the warm water and staring at the ripples on the surface. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, doesn’t Inuyasha still plan on dying with her? He hasn’t said otherwise, has he?”

Kagome’s stomach clenched. “I don’t…”

“Or does he still plan on using the Shikon Jewel to make himself a full demon? I can never keep up…” she said with no small amount of agitation. 

Sango realized after a moment that Kagome had fallen silent. Then, in a poor effort to take back the sour mood she’d just created, she brought her hands to Kagome’s shoulders.

“No, I’m sure it’s no problem at all, Kagome! I mean, none of us actually thinks he’ll leave us—leave you—when all this is over. Everyone knows he’s head over heels for you.”

Kagome offered a weak smile in return, but there was no mistaking it: there was now a distinct shadow over her demeanor that nothing Sango could say could fix. It was as if she’d pulled the curtain back during a nice little stage play to show that, no matter how kind the king had seemed, there was still a whole other person in a green box who was actually in control.

“It’s okay, Sango. You’re right.”

“Maybe you should just ask him about it...?”

“...Yeah.” Her voice was high, as if she was trying to appear cheerful, but it only sounded strained. 

Well, thought Sango solemnly, maybe the only way out of this is to go through.

She scooted closer to Kagome and brought a comforting arm around her back. She was taller, even when sitting, so the position brought Kagome into the crook of her arm. 

“Hey... you love him, don’t you?” she asked softly.

Kagome kept staring at the water, but her expression grew even more pained. “Like crazy,” she whispered.

“Well, then. When the time comes, and we’ve defeated Naraku and restored the jewel, what would you wish for, if you had the chance?”

Kagome took in the question one word at a time. “I’d want...”

She hesitated. Kagome’s first instinct was to say that she’d want to be able to be with Inuyasha forever—and this wouldn’t have been a lie. But was that really what she wanted to want the most? Would she be the kind of person she could approve of if she wished for something like that, when all other wishes were at her fingertips?

Kagome imagined herself as the best version of Kagome she could ever be. What would that version of her wish?

She’d be willing to sacrifice what she wanted. She’d want Inuyasha to be happy, more than anything. No matter what that meant.

Kagome’s lips formed into a sad smile. After a minute of thinking, she turned to Sango and said resolutely, “I’d wish for Inuyasha’s happiness.”

This wasn’t what Sango expected to hear her say, and she’d be lying if a part of her wasn’t bothered by it, but she forced her lips to perk upward. “Then I guess you’ll just have to trust that he knows what will make him the happiest.”

Dusk’s arrival grew imminent, and with it came the bleak prospect of a waning paradise that Kagome felt she’d gotten to cherish far too briefly.

When they left the spring and returned to the men, Inuyasha offered her a secret smile, and she did her best to return it. But she did not wait for their return before laying herself down to sleep.

As she drifted off, she wondered if the growing sound of the soul collectors’ singing was real or dreamed. 

[fandomnsfw]

The Perfect Man For Us - Derek Hale x Reader

Pairing: Derek Hale x singlemother!Reader

Prompt: The new one shot teen wolf series I’m working on.

Warnings: None really its just fluff and mentions of a rape that occurred but no details. I decided not to do smut for this one because I feel like I don’t do a lot of fluff and Derek deserve a nice fluffy love not just sex. 

ENJOY!!!

*******

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs felt like they were burning, but you couldn’t stop running. You heard them behind you shouting derogative names and loading their guns. You felt tears prick your eyes as you clung to your son, your arms never faltering. He was whimpering softly as he gripped your clothing for dear life.

“Mama.” He whispered shakily into your shoulder before he looked up at you his long tear covered lashes blinking heavily.

“I know my little love. Shhh.” You whisper as you kept running.

You paused your running to look down and check your son wasn’t injured. However, before you could feel relieved you felt a sharp pain in your side. Shit. The searing pain had you stumbling a little but you quickly regain your footing and began running again, knowing that your child was in danger gave you the boost of adrenaline you needed.

You’re unsure of how long it had been since you heard the hunters, or how long you’d been running while bleeding out but that was quickly the least of your worries when a big dark skinned man came into view his golden eyes glowing as you with a warning growl.

“P-Please…I-I don’t mean any harm. H-Hunters are coming.” You felt yourself getting drowsy but you tried to fight it.

“My baby.” You whimpered as you fell to your knees begin to buckle as you clutched your son tightly.

“Oh my god! Boyd stop growling at her she’s a fucking injured mother with a baby! We need to get her to Derek now!” A female said as she came out from the trees her blonde hair swaying softly as she ran towards us.

You didn’t have time to feel relieved or even scared because you didn’t know them because you fell into a foetal position clutching your son as everything went black.

*******

“This is going to take a couple of days to heal, even as a werewolf. She’s seriously malnourished and dehydrated her son is perfect though my guess is whatever food and drink she either found or got given she gave to this little boy.” A man’s voice stated your eyes refused to open but you could hear at least six heartbeats.

“Well obviously shed do that. She’s his mother.” A female voice responded sassily making you wish you could nod in agreement.

“How do you know it could be her brother?” A younger male voice stated with just as much sass.

“She said my baby as she passed out Isaac.” She huffed as she began moving around the room.

“Wh-Wheres my baby?” You spoke as you finally managed to open your eyes.

“He’s here. Don’t worry we gave him some milk and a snack then Boyd here put him down for a nap.” She young woman stated softly as she approached your bed.

“T-Thank you so much.” You whispered tearfully as you tried sitting up but the pain in your side stopped you immediately.

“No you need to rest we have him. What’s his name?” She asked softly as a slightly older man whose face was cuddled in stubble approached.  

“I’m Y/N and that is my son, Samuel.” You muttered between catching your breath from the pain.

“I’m Erica and this is Boyd, Isaac and this is our Alpha, Derek. Oh and that is our local vet Deaton.” She chuckled as she pointed to everyone.

“A vet? Is that a dog joke?” You snorted making the younger one’s chuckle.

“No he’s actually a vet but he used to be Derek’s mom’s emissary.” She laughed humorously making you nod with a smile.

“I see.” You glanced at the Alpha who had yet to speak as he stared down at you with a poker face.

“Well we have school but Derek here can get you anything you or Samuel need. Right Derek?” Erica said softly her eyes meeting her Alphas who just nodded gruffly.

He didn’t exactly seem thrilled to have you here but you took her word for it and squeezed her hand gratefully as she pointed to where Sam was laid down on a single mattress covered in blankets. You watched as the vet and the three young betas left, what looked like an old train depot.

Once they’d gone you glanced at the alpha who was making himself busy cleaning up take away boxes and other bits and bobs. You watched the way his muscles clenched around the henley that was rolled up his arms. He was handsome but that was the last thing on your mind as you stared at your baby.

“How come hunters were after you?” Derek spoke suddenly making you jump a little.

“T-There not normal hunters. They had me captive for a few years. Beating me, torturing me…r-raping me. I-I…” You paused staring at your hands as they began shaking, your tears threatening to spill over.

“W-When I was fifteen I had a girlfriend…she was older than me in her twenties. Turned out she was a hunter using me to find out when all my family would be in one house…She burnt my entire house to the ground. I was out and so was my oldest sister Laura but everyone else…they burnt.” He stated awkwardly like it wasn’t something he ever really spoke about but you nodded in understanding when the story rung a bell in your head.

“Are you talking about the Hale fire?” You suddenly asked making the alphas head spin towards you so fast your surprised it didn’t hurt.

“H-How?” He asked fearfully making you shake your head.

“There was a little girl…she was taken in by my pack just before I was taken…What was her name? Erm, it sounded a lot like Laura…oh yeah Cora.” You stated easily as the Alpha suddenly had tears in his eyes.

“C-Cora’s alive?” He whispered and then you realied she mustve been his younger sister.  

“She should still be with my old pack. The alpha is called Demetri.” You replied with a sad smile.

“T-Thank you. I will reach out soon.” He whispered with a small smile that had your heart clenching painfully.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. I don’t have a big pack but you’re welcome to join it and Samuel obviously.” His offer melted your heart which is why you grabbed his hand and looked him in the eye.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a big pack. It matters that you care. I would be honoured to join the newest Hale alpha.” You chuckled with a gentle smile that Derek returned as a little grunt came from across the room.

“M-Mama!” Sam cried as he shakily sat up looking around the room.

“I’m here baby.” You called over to him making his eyes meet yours but before he could take a step Derek was over there picking him up.

“He’s got no shoes on. He may be a wolf but he hasn’t shifted and I don’t want him to stand on anything dangerous.” Derek muttered as he placed your son on your lap as Sam stared at Derek with wide eyes.

“Hi my little love.” You whispered into his hair as he clung to you tightly.

“This is Derek.” You said as you pointed to the dark haired man.

“D-De…Dada?” He pouted in confusion making your eyes widen.

“N-No…De-Rik.” You said sounding out the word.

“Der.” He settled on making Derek laugh softly.

“That’s close enough.” He chuckled making you flush as you chose to ignore the fact that your son had called him dada.

“Bot bot.” He demanded with a cheeky smile.

“Does he want a bottle?” Derek asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah. S-Sorry I feel useless right now.” You whispered sadly making Derek shoot you a sympathetic smile.

“It’s fine I had Cora and another younger sibling called Sophie so I don’t mind. Does he need diapers or anything else?” Derek asked gently making sure you knew not to feel bad.

“Well…I used to use whatever they brought me so honestly I have no idea. I managed to escape when they started threatening to take him it’s amazing how much strength you can have when it comes to your pup.” You chuckled darkly making Derek nod.

“Okay well if you don’t mind I know a few people who might be able to help. Good people.” Derek stated softly as he took out his phone but waited for you to give the okay first. You gave him a nod which he returned before pressing the call button on his phone.

“What do you want Derek? I’m about to walk into school.” A young man’s voice said through the phone making you chuckle.

“I have a situation and I need your moms number.” Derek stated coolly his stoic attitude back.

“Why?” He huffed sassily.

“Because I need help buying baby stuff.” Suddenly you heard another voice join the call.

“Oh my god. Did you knock someone up!?”

“No Stiles. Jesus Christ just give me you moms number Scott!” Derek growled down the phone as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. I’ve text it to you. So who’s bab-”

Derek hung up and you started laughing at the whole situation which made him crack a smile before he made another call to Scott’s mother. Who stated she would be there soon without much information. Derek seemed shocked by how quickly she agreed but gave a shrug and sat down next to you and Sam.

It wasn’t long before a pretty older woman with curly hair peeked into the depot before finally spotting Derek. She seemed slightly nervous but Derek gave her an awkward smile which she returned as she moved down the stairs towards you, Sam and Derek.

“Hi, I’m Melissa, Scotts mom. I’m also a nurse.” She introduced herself with a motherly mile that made you trust her instantly.

“I’m Y/N this is my son Samuel.” You replied.

“She had Samuel in the captivity of hunters so he’s not really had the normal stuff that baby’s get and stuff. I-I need help doing some shopping for him.” Derek said calmly as he flushed a little.

“Do you know around how old he is?” Melissa asked softly her face full of sympathy.

“He’s 692 days old. I tallied them on the wall of my cell and plus they 2 days I was running so 694.” You responded easily as Sam looked at Melissa curiously.

“Okay so about 22 months. So you’re almost two! How’s his development?” Melissa asked softly as she smiled down at your son.

“He walks good, he can talk a little, only small stuff not full sentences but he likes to copy words. He eats really well and he has most of his teeth except the last 4.” You stated as you looked down at him.

“That’s pretty much on point with most babies his age. I would like to have him weighed and get him registered at the hospital I work at so he’ll get the check-ups he needs. I’d buy him a few 24-month stuff but most stuff we should get in 2T cos he’ll always grow but he won’t shrink.” She chuckled at her own comment which also had you laughing.

“I-I don’t have any money though…” You whispered with a flushed face.

“Don’t worry about that. I have money.” Derek stated simply as he began putting on his leather jacket.

“Maybe you should think about getting a house with said money.” Melissa snorted making Derek roll his eyes as he tried to hide his smirk.

“Offering to help with that too Melissa?” He joked making her eyes widen before she started laughing.

“Yeah why not. We’ll pop down to the real estate office and have a look at what there is. Then we’ll go shopping for this little cutie.” She said as she bopped your sons nose making him giggle.

*******

“Y/N? Where’s Derek and Sam?” Isaac’s voice rang out dragging you attention from the book Derek had given you.

“They went shopping with Melissa.” You said with a small smile as Erica ran downstairs to give you a hug.

"How long have they been gone?” Erica asked with a frown.

“Since about 11am. So 4 hours.” You pondered as you realised they’d been gone a while.

“What’s he buying a fucking store?” Erica snorted as she picked up the book you’d put down.

“They said something about real estate too.” You added with a small smile.

“Hmm interesting.” Boyd muttered as he flopped down onto a worn out broken couch.

It wasn’t long before you were chatting away happily with the beta’s and lost track of time completely until finally Derek and Melissa came through the entry and down the stairs two boys following her carrying so man bags your eyes almost popped out your skull.

Derek was carrying Sam as Melissa instructed the boys the put the bags in the corner. Derek put him down on the ground and Sam ran up to you. He was in a pair of acid wash jeans, a white t-shirt, doc martens and a little leather jacket. Your eyes widened as Derek seemed to flush from all they looks he was getting.

“Like Der mama.” He giggled as he pointed to his jacket and boots.

“Yes you have clothes like Derek! You look so cute!” You giggled as he snuggled up to you with a grin.

“I bought furniture but I had it delivered to the property I bought. It’ll be delivered tomorrow after I collect the keys.” Derek muttered shyly as he scratched the back of his head.

“You bought a house!?” Everyone shouted at the same time.

“Well w-we couldn’t have the pack living here all the time. We have a baby in the pack now.” He responded with a small warning growl daring them to say anything.

“Sourwolf’s gone soft.” A young man whispered making Derek rolls his eyes.

“Shut up Stiles.” Derek growled flashing his eyes at the young man who was wearing a red plaid shirt with a black t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans and sneakers.

“So this is the whole pack? You’re Stiles and Scott?” You asked trying to ease the teasing Derek was clearly going to get.

“Yeah I was turned by Derek’s uncle when he went feral after the fire. This is Stiles he’s human but my best friend so honorary pack member by default.” Scott stated making Stiles glare at his friends.

“Stiles is the pack researcher. Not just Scott best buddie.” Derek huffed with an eye roll.

“I see. So he’s basically like an emissary just not learnt about the magic stuff yet?” You chuckled as Stiles seemed shocked by Derek’s words.

“Am I?” Stiles seemed wide eyed and confused which you thought was adorable.

“Yeah sort of. Emissary’s jobs are to help advise the pack and give them information they need the make the decisions.” Derek informed the teen gruffly.

“Oh. Well thanks sourwolf! Didn’t know you even liked me.” He snorted as he wiped a fake tear from his eye dramatically.

“Der!” Sam shouted making everyone look at the little boy in your arms.

“What?” Derek asked softly with a small smile.

“Mama stuff!” He shouted making you frown as Derek seemed to understand what he meant and grabbed two bags.

“Melissa bought you some clothes.” He mumbled with a small flush on his stoic face as he passed you the two bags.

“No Derek bought them I just picked them.” She chuckled with an affectionate eye roll.

“O-Oh thank you so much. Wow these are so pretty.” You said softly as you looked through them.

“I always wanted a daughter.” Melissa whispered playfully making her son shout in protest.

“You guys have been generous…I don’t know how to thank you.” You whispered with a sad smile making them smile back towards you.

“You’re pack now. We look out for each other.” Erica stated as she pulled you into a hug.

This is yours and Sam’s pack now and you couldn’t be happier.

******

“Sammie don’t bother Derek he’s sleeping!” You shouted as he ran away from you down the hall towards the Alpha’s room. Jeez when did he get so fast.

He barged into Derek’s room with grin on his face as he ran and dived onto the mans bed. Derek opened his eyes, giving your son a smile as he hugged him close. The whole scene melted your heart, your new feelings for Derek getting harder to ignore the more time you spend with the man.

His dark stubble was as perfect as ever as your son kissed his cheek making you wish you could do the same. He was shirtless so you tried not to focus on his abs that had dark hair littered around his pecks and the line of it leading to his…no bad Y/n stop staring, you thought with a flush.

Derek finally looked towards you and took in your outfit his eyes seemed to soften even more as he patted the bed urging you to sit. You did so carefully as not to get too close but when he touched your arm you leaned into it subconsciously.

“You look pretty today. What’s the occasion?” He asked as he stared down at your fluttery summer dress.

The dress was black with peachy pink flowers on it. It was a layered hem that reminded you of fairy dresses with small thin spaghetti straps and ‘v’ shaped neck line. You had on a pair of flat black sandals that wrapped around your ankle, a cute pair of sunglasses Erica bought you and your makeup consisted of peachy pink smoky eye and nude pink lipstick. Your hair was curled and half pined back into a bow made with your own hair which you thought looked cute.

“The girls are getting their nails done today for the dance tomorrow so I thought I’d tag along. The sheriff offered to watch Sam so I thought why not.” You chuckled softly making him frown a little which confused you.

“You should get yours done too.” Derek muttered with the small frown still on his face.

“I don’t have money Derek we’ve been over this. Once Sammy’s in kindergarten I will be getting a job then I can have luxuries. It bad enough you feed us, give us clothes and a house to live in that’s more than enough.” You stated awkwardly making his frown deepen.

“You understand I own 2 hotels, have over 13 million in the bank and a job in construction.” He stated with a raised brow which honestly shocked you. You knew he didn’t seem to struggle even feeding the whole pack but you didn’t know he was that loaded.

“You offering to be my sugar daddy Derek?” You joked making him flush as he avoided all eye contact.

“Dada Der!” Sam shouted and you suddenly realised your son was still sat in the room.

“Crap.” You snorted as Derek started laughing whole heartedly.

“No honey mama was joking.” You tried but Sam just frowned at you and clung to Derek sending oyu a glare.

“Dada.” He whispered in a sad tone that made your heart clench painfully.

“Honey you can’t ca-”

“I don’t mind. I don’t want him to feel like he did something wrong.” Derek interrupted you making your eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” You asked with a small frown on your face.

“Yeah he’ll probably forget about it later anyway.” He stated softly as he leaned over to grab his wallet. He pulled out a card and passed it to you with a small smile.

“This is for you. Use it whenever you want. If you or Sam need or want anything don’t hesitate okay? You’re basically pack mom at this point so that’s more than enough of a job. In fact, I think pack moms have the hardest job especially with as many teens there is.” He chuckled his words made you flush slightly but you nodded in acceptance.

“T-Thank you.” You whispered shyly as you took the card, your hand brushing against his causing a shiver to pass through you.

“I can hear the girls are here. You go I’ll watch Sam until Noah gets here.” He chucked as his hand came down to stroke the back of your hair affectionately.

By the time you go downstairs you blush was still full force as you thought about how Derek’s hands felt on the back of your hair and when he touched your hand. You were so focused on that, you didn’t see the girls staring at you with a smirk.

“Did Derek finally make a move?” Erica chuckled making you flush even more.

“N-No he doesn’t like me like that…” You whispered your tone turning a little sad.

“You’re just as blind as he is.” Lydia huffed as she rolled her eyes making Allison laugh.

“I-I am not!” You huffed rather childishly for the mother of a two year old.

“Whatever let’s go. I need to grab some new lingerie too.” Erica chuckled as Lydia took out her car keys with a smirk.

*****

You glared at the girls with a warning to not start once you were inside the house which they listened even if they did give you attitude. You took the small bag out the car only to turn around and see Derek stood at the door, leaning against the frame. His arms bugling as they crossed over his chest. God that shouldn’t be legal.

“Yet it is.” Allison whispered playfully making you realised you said that out loud.

As you approached the door Noah was also pulling up with Stiles and Sam getting out the back of the car. Stiles put him down and you bent down to give him a hug but he ran straight past you and straight towards to open front door.

“DADA!” He shouted as he launched at Derek causing his eyes to widen as he looked at the reaction of the pack and you.

“Well that’s just rude. You know I’m the one that carried you for 9 months and pushed you out right?” You huffed childishly as you tried to act like what had just happened was normal.

“Oh that makes sense! He’s been chatting my ear off about how dada is this and dada does that and I had no idea what he was talking about.” Stiles snorted as he scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah nice plan Der. What was it you said? He’ll probably forget about it later.” You mocked playfully making him roll his eyes with a smirk.

“You’re just salty cos he came to his daddy first.” Derek mocked his smirk still firmly in place.

His words shocked you enough to have your eyes widen as everyone seemed to realise there was a conversation that was due and everyone took there leave. You walked into the house past Derek as you placed your bag on the table in the entry way before turning to Derek as Sam ran off to play with his many toys from the pack he got for his birthday last week.

“I-I…Would you like to go on a date tomorrow maybe?” Derek stuttered awkwardly making you smile gently at him.

“I-I would really like that.” You responded shyly, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Great.” Derek responded with a full smile that showed off his cute bunny like teeth.

******

You stood in front of the mirror staring at the outfit you’d picked out with Melissa’s help, she was currently moving around you fixing up your hair, straightening sections as she went. Your knee started bouncing anxiously as you started over thinking everything. What if Derek only asked you out because her son was calling him ‘dada’? What if he realised later on he didn’t like you then you’d be stuck living with an ex? God what were you doing?

“Stop it. You guys are perfect for each other. You know when I was on my way to your room I went past Derek’s room and he was throwing his clothes everywhere huffing about how he had nothing to wear.” She laughed softly her words making you smile softly with a light flush settling on your cheeks.

“Thank you Melissa.” You whispered gratefully making you smile her usual motherly smile.

“I know it’s all a little backwards for you guys seeing as how Sammy is calling him Daddy but not everything has to fit society’s standards. As a mother you chose to put your son first and that’s amazing but us mothers deserve some fun time too.” She whispered playfully her eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Maybe you should consider the handsome sheriff for your fun time unless you already enjoy fun time with our dear sheriff?” You suggested with a smirk on your face making her roll her eyes.

“Do not say anything to those two. You know what there like. They already see each other as brothers I don’t need their input on our ‘fun time’.” She snorted softly making you grin up at her.

You finally finished getting ready and made your way down the stairs where Derek was already waiting, with a crisp white shirt, a fitted suit jacket and slim fit slacks with matching black shiny shoes. His first few buttons were undone leaving you flushing at how sexy he looked however he seemed to return the sentiment as he took in your outfit.

You had on a black long sleeved sleek dress that almost touched the floor, a slit in the side that reached just reach mid-thigh, a pair of nude heels and a black clutch to go with it. Your makeup was flawless thanks to Lydia earlier in the evening a nude like a nude smoky eye.

“Wow.” He said with wide eyes as you came to the bottom of the curved staircase.

“D-Do you mind if we take a picture? I have started making a s-scrap book and I wanted to put a picture of our f-first date in it.” You asked shyly as you held up your phone.

“Yeah I mean I haven’t taken a picture since before the fire so I’m not sure if I’m very photogenic.” He chuckled softly.

“You own a mirror right?” You snorted playfully as you stood close to him, dragging him towards the full length mirror in the entry way.

“How do you…” He paused and looked down at you awkwardly.

You knew he was feeling awkward so you decided to take the initiative and pull him toward you by his belt loops. You moved his right arm around your waist as you pushed yourself as close as possible. You stared into his eyes before turning to the mirror and taking the picture, you placed a soft kiss on his cheek before pulling away.

You held up the phone to show him the picture which made his eyes widen as he stared at it for a minute before speaking up.

“C-Can I have a copy of this?” He asked shyly making you smile happily.

“Of course. I’ll send it to you when we get home.” You replied softly.

******

“But did she even know the guy?” Derek asked with a carefree laugh.

“No but he played along and last I heard they were still together!” You laughed behind your glass of red wine.

“Wow. That’s hilarious.” Derek snorted as he set down his glass of water.

“I’m sorry Mr Hale we’re about to close.” The restaurant manager stated gently his smile polite.

“Oh I had no idea it was that late sorry. Thank you Gregory.” Derek chuckled softly as he stood up and held his hand out for you.

“It’s no problem Mr Hale. I had Jeff pack some more of that chocolate tart for you and your date.” He whispered playfully making Derek laugh as he patted the older man’s back affectionately.

Once you collected your desert, you both began making your way outside, your arm in Derek’s as he escorted you to the passenger side of the Camaro. He held open the door like the gentlemen he was as offered you his hand to help you into your seat. You slid into it gracefully before he closed the door and made his way round to the drivers side.

“This didn’t feel like a first date.” You suddenly blurted out making him frown like he’d done something wrong and was trying to figure out what.

“N-No I don’t mean that in a bad way…I mean its feels more like a married couple having their weekly date night…it was comfortable and it felt natural like we’d doing it our whole lives.” You rambled making him smile so wide your surprised it didn’t hurt.

“I know what you mean. It just felt right.” He chuckled as he took your hand in his.

“Well then you don’t mind if I kiss you right now then?” Derek added making you giggle softly as you leaned in.

“I thought you’d never offer Mr Hale.” You sassed back playfully making him shoot you another grin before he leaned in.

His lips were soft against yours as he kissed you like he meant it. You could feel all his emotions pouring into that one moment making your heart clench with utter happiness. His hand came up to cup your cheek as he dragged you into his lap sideways, your legs still draped of the console. You clutched to the open collar of his shirt clinging for dear life as his tongue brush against yours.

You’d never felt like this before with anyone but that’s what made it so perfect because no one could compare to this man.

“I need you to take me home Der.” You whispered against his lips seductively, your thighs clenching as he pulled away, his eyes half lid and filled with lust.

He didn’t say anything just gave you a no and helped your back over to your seat waiting for you to clip in before her set of silently his free hand resting on your upper thigh. You didn’t care about how sleeping with a man on the first date was bad taste because this man was already a father to your son so why should you care about what was ‘normal’.

Once you got home you barely managed to get out the car as Derek threw you over his shoulder like the caveman he was but you just giggled at his antics.

“This does not feel very gentlemanly Mr Hale.” You teased as you clung to the material of his suit.

“Well what we’re about to do doesn’t require a gentleman does it my love?” He chuckled darkly his hand coming down to playfully smack your ass.

You knew at that moment this man couldn’t be more perfect for you.

He was even the perfect father for your son and you both knew it.

[4veslil]

Can I have a oneshot with Edward and Bella doing house chores and being domestic?

Oneshot | Edward Cullen/Bella Swan | Domestic Bliss

A/N: Sorry this took a while! I sorta had a plan but just went with the flow since that’s what came to mind when I thought mundane, domestic bliss between a couple. I hope you like it! I certain enjoyed writing it! This is sooooo much more fluffy than the usual stuff I write but quite proud of it haha. So, without further ado, ENJOY! <3

★ MASTER LIST & REQUEST INFO ★

WORD COUNT: 1,740

Edward knew Bella tried to hide it, her books comprising of Mary Wollstonecraft, Mary Shelley, Virginia Wolf- obviously Jane Ayre. Bella was a collection of every woman pushing the boundary. While everyone reached for the moon she didn’t mind settling for the stars- hell, he certainly sparkled like one. So when he saw his human girlfriend open the door completely comfortable in a floral apron, bright yellow gloves and messy pony tail, Edward knew she’d given up hiding. 

He wouldn’t say she was a mess, Bella couldn’t be such a thing. She was frazzled at best, her hair having a mind of its own as it waved one side and straightened into a flick on the other. Her cheeks were positively flushed contrasting the snow white skin beautifully, drowning her constellation of freckles in a sunset sky. 

Looking at her reddened state, Edward couldn’t help but notice the wet sheen to the apron and collection of bubbles slowly tracing the contour of her face. 

Yes, she was completely and utterly frazzled. Bella knew she looked a state when she swung open the door to see Edward in all his glory. He had dressed perfectly for a date (that now probably wouldn’t happen). Bella found (after Volterra) Charlie could, in fact, care less for her boyfriend. The list of chores as long as her arm was a testament to that.

She hadn’t had time to put on the make-up Alice had bought her, the dress Esme had gifted her or get her ears pierced for the earrings Renee snuck in her room when she visited. It’d all become complete and utter shambles. Embarrassment coloured her face a bright, strawberry red. Edward was always so human.

The thought inspired her, it was a whip of lightening that spread a giddy anticipation.

“You’ve got something…” Edward smirked as he reached out. His thumb grazed lightly across her skin. He was always so cold but Edward always managed to make her feel warm.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, fluttering under her skin like a pleasant tickle. If she wasn’t already used to it she’d be weak at the knees. He always knew how to make her fall further and when she hit the ground, he dug out the earth until she was embraced by the warm centre of the world.

“I never noticed” she nervously chuckled, rubbing after his touch.

“Guessing this is another one of Charlie’s schemes?” Edward quirked a brow.

Bella huffed, blowing a stray piece of hair from her eyes, “Oh I know it is. With the amount of stupid stuff he left me to do- who knows, I might be stuck here all evening!”

At the sight of Bella’s pouting, Edward couldn’t help but focus on her plush bottom lip. He could count on one hand how many times they’ve kissed but even if he lost track it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Well we can’t have that? Can we?” Edward teased as rolled up his sleeves.

Bella’s eyes immediately darted to the exposed flesh, still raised over the veins on his forearms. ‘God, is it weird to be attracted to your boyfriend’s arms?’ she internally gushed like a young school girl.

“Woah wait? You’re gonna help me?” She stepped back as he entered.

“Of course, more hands equals more time for our date” Edward shrugged, the human gesture curled Bella’s lips into a coy smile.

“You really don’t have to…”

“Don’t have to what?-“, before she knew it Bella was wrapped up in Edward’s arms, “Spend more time with my beautiful girlfriend in that stunning outfit?”

His laughter rumbled from his chest as her legs swung back and forth with the motion of his steps. So easily he carried her further into the house. Bella knew he didn’t have the strength to kiss like normal couples their age so she savoured when he wrapped his arms around her. He did it with ease like they always belonged- intertwined together.

“Stunning? Who would have thought my grandma’s apron and greasy hair got you going, Mr Cullen”

Finally, he delicately placed Bella down, for a moment she thought she was floating. Once returned to the floor, she couldn’t help but look into his golden eyes- bright like flickering candlelight.

“Well, when you’re the one with the apron and greasy hair of course you’ll be stunning-“ Edward complimented with a shy smile, “I find everything about you beautiful”

Bella was getting a hot flush, that had to be it, it’s all she could think to avoid the embarrassment of blushing like she was. To dispel her gooey feelings she deflected by quickly grabbing Charlie’s ‘#1 Dad’ apron and shoved it into Edward’s chest. She ignored the dull pain in her fingers from the force of it.

“Put this on and help with the drying up, I doubt rich kids like you ever get your hands dirty” Bella sarcastically drawled.

“I would have you know I would help our maid in the kitchen all the time”, Bella snorted aloud.

“Oh yes, of course Prince Edward, whatever you say”

The mock curtsy Bella gave her immortal boyfriend only invited his teasing. In seconds he was gone and back with a scoop of bubbles from the sink in his hands.

Her brow drew in a confused expression before he finally he let a rip. The squeals that excited her mouth were untamed when he expelled the air from his futile lungs. Like snowflakes the bubbles fell over Bella, sticking to her hair and clothes with its feather-light touch.

“That’s not fair!” Bella giggled when he returned with more bubbles, chasing her around the living room with a sly smirk.

They both knew it was silly to pretend she could out run him but their standoff around the sofa left little space in their minds to bother fussing over reality. They were trapped in a bubble that convinced them they were normal, just two humans so in love as they teased one another. They hardly got the time together to flirt like teenagers and chase each other around trailed by the song of young laughter.

“Are-Aren’t you meant to- y’know, help me clean this place, not make it worse” Bella stuttered. Edward always took her breath away but never like this. She was breathless out of unabashed bliss not simply awe-stricken by his unnatural beauty.

This time around Bella noticed the cow’s lick spiking a chunk of his bronze locks, how his awkwardly teeth pressed against his lips when he smiled, how (even as a vampire) he didn’t know what to do with his arms. She felt boring and it was painful to admit she yearned for it. In that life The Volturi, Victoria, The Wolves, Laurent, James- they were just bullies and cliques in a high school so mundane it made Forks High look exciting. Sometimes Bella lost her self in the fantasy.

She felt silly after waking up from those nights. Bella adored the slumber where she dreamt of Edward with warm skin, pink cheeks; the boyish musk of sweat following him.

In her dreams Edward had freckled cheeks- she even imagined a pimple on his chin. Her favourite fantasies were so human and perhaps unattractive to most. But, things like dry lips and heaving breaths trailing behind unstoppable laughter. God, Bella was thankful Edward couldn’t read her mind, how embarrassing it would be for him to know.

‘After all’ Bella huffed ‘Who thought their boyfriend’s arms were his most attractive feature? People would think I’m crazy. They might consider institutionalisation if they heard about my daydreaming that he was sweaty with pimples and dry lips’

“I really wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours” Edward smiled- a small, disappointed one when their game was finally over.

After twenty minutes, Bella had relented. Beating Edward in any game to do with fitness was futile. But she didn’t get too upset, she’d learnt to tone down her competitive streak with the Cullens (for now, while she was human).

“Well, my love, just gotta find out the human way- just like I do with you” Bella jumped to the kitchen, revealing too many teeth as her mouth stretched wide.

“Hey, maybe today is the day you get back in touch with your routes. Be- y’know, human” she shrugged.

Edward shook his head, eyes full of mirth as his teeth chewed on his bottom lip. He made them look so soft, that Bella knew she’d crack a tooth if she tried it. ‘Edward’s mouth came a close second to his arms’, she decided quickly.

“So that’s what our date is now? Practicing for our future domestic bliss?” He chuckled.

“Well, why not? Human or Vampire there’s still gonna be a house to clean” Bella shrugged with a shy movement.

She had given up on the possibility of her face losing its blush, Bella waved the white flag against her body’s traitorous tells. She was a hopelessly readable, not for the lack of trying to resist it.

The date had been left to the back of their minds as they quietly washed and dried the dishes, swept and mopped the floors and fluffed the sofa cushions. Despite the silence, both Edward and Bella, a couple fated to fail because of their natures, found peace in the simplicity. The house was homey, their smiles shy and teasing, their touches unbridled by the violent relationship between monster and man.

It such mundane chores the two lovers felt magic.

They felt everything was as it should be.

[blackwolfstabs]

The Wolves of Woodsboro - Chapter II

HUMAN

characters: Sam Carpenter, Billy Loomis, & Danny Brackett

Nesting birds jumped from the trees and scurrying nocturnal creatures scattered into the shadows’ depths at the sound of a predator rushing through the forest.

Sam’s eyes burned as she sprinted blind, racing with long strides and no concern for her surroundings. She would have thought she’d grown used to this feeling by now, but it seemed enhanced tonight. 

It was Tara. 

It was her father.

It was everyone she had ever come into contact with, since she met Richie. Since the nightmare was set in motion. Since her life was bound by the truth. Since time was set to fire and purpose was defined as vengeance.

Voices screamed at her, all that she could hear around the blood roaring in her ears. Words she had never wanted to hear again. Mixed words and voices that were distinguishable but threatening at the same time.

‘ “Tara was attacked.” ’ Wes.

‘ “Sam… I was so scared.” ’ Tara.

‘ “Mmm. Antipsychotics aren’t working as well as they used to, are they?” ’ Billy.

Her tongue slid against her fangs with each reflex of her lungs.

‘ “I remember you too… and all the trouble you used to cause your family.” ’ Judy.

‘ “Sam… Get the fuck out!” ’ Tara.

‘ “You wanna know why, Sam? Maybe it’s because you’re a selfish bitch who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love.” ’ Amber.

Her claws dug deeper into the earth with every stride.

‘ “You’re in Stu Macher’s house, where your dad and Stu killed everyone. Someone planned to get you there. You need to get the fuck out, Sam!” ’ Sidney.

‘ “Wasn’t that hard for me to find you in Modesto. It wasn’t that hard for me to fuck you either. But I guess being a sexually available woman is supposed to be empowering these days.” ’ Richie.

A deep snarl came from her throat as she cursed herself, shaking her head of the branches that slapped her muzzle as she blindly raced past them.

The voices got louder.

‘ “Sam. Are you fucking kidding me? You’re stalking me now?” ’ Tara.

‘ “You guys should stay away from her. She knows what she did!” ’ Stranger.

‘ “Unstable.” “Born-killer.” ’ Gale.

Cuts and stabs tormented her body and ripped the fur from her skin as she tore through shrubbery and disheveled paths.

‘ “Then don’t trust anyone. Not your friends. Not me. Not anyone.” ’ Danny.

‘ “Come on, Sam, you got to be excited to get our murder on again. Together. Billy and Sam. Team Loomis.” ’ Billy.

‘ “No, you’re gonna die, Samantha! Choking on your own blood, while I hack up your sister.” ’ Quinn.

Savage barking intertwined her snarls as she pushed harder, the smell of her own blood from her scarred flanks and blistered pads just fueling her more. The cool colors of the woods and night blended into red. All shades of red, the kinds that she had seen in liquid form come from another being’s body. Friends, family, enemies, allies. Mid-20s and already desensitized to the crimson flood that was a one-way ticket to life or death. It thrilled her. There was an inner lust that drove her mad when the hunt was on. And that was the biggest struggle she fought herself on. 

Was she a human or a wolf?

‘ “This was your grandmother’s, Sam. Nancy Loomis. Really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it?” ’ Ethan.

‘ “And you’re a killer. Just like your father.” ’ Wayne.

‘ “Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! She’s finally starting to get it!” ’ Ethan.

The wolf was outrunning by far. Her throat ripped deep within from another infuriated snarl that echoed off the trees.

‘ “That I knew you had to fucking die! You had to be punished!” ’ Wayne.

‘ “There she is. There’s the fucking killer.” ’ Quinn.

‘ “Sam. Let me go.” ’ Tara.

‘ “Yeah, let her go, Sam, come on!” ’ Ethan.

‘ “Now you know the truth, huh? Murder’s in your blood!” ’ Wayne.

‘ “Legacy doesn’t always have to be a bad thing.” ’ Kirby.

Samantha broke out of the overcast of trees and out into the open air. Her paws hit the hard, still-warm concrete of a road, and the sudden change of pace had her freezing in the moment. The voices stopped, and she was whipped back into reality.

A bright light blasted her profile from the left, followed by the bellowing of a car horn. Her ears erected as she looked over to find a white glow blind her and the heat wave of an engine brace her bristling coat. 

The screeching of tires pierced her eardrums.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Everything she had just experienced as voices came back physically to play behind her eyes. Past, present, and future. Her life was a blur. 

She anticipated pain, more pain than she had ever experienced, but instead, something strong and sharp grabbed her scruff and her body was yanked out of the light and into the shadows once more.

Jaws. That was what had her.

On the other side of the road, there was more forest, and in that one leap it took to get out of the danger of being crushed by a car, the she-wolf was released and thrown to the earth. The cuts she sustained from her mindless sprint through the first half of the woods pulled as the strength of her ‘savior’ sent her skidding through the collection of twigs, dirt, and dead leaves. But adrenaline was still rushing, leaving her shaking her head of the commotion and lifting it towards the figure that stood a good distance from her.

Another wolf.

Golden eyes, identical to her own, was the only source of color around the gray-colored pelt the other possessed. Their lips were pulled back slightly into somewhat of a condescending smile, while the presentation of their erect ears and confident posture showed their entitled dominance.

Another wolf-shifter.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat at the shock of who it was. The scent. The rugged tone through the canine vocals. The smug expression. The way those eyes led to darker ones portrayed in human form, the ones that always gleamed with bloodlust, ambition, and temptation.

Billy Loomis.

“You should really watch where you’re going, baby girl.”

Was that supposed to be insulting? It sure sounded like it. The smile pulling at his muzzle made her push her shock of having him physically appear before her aside to pull her own lips back in a defensive growl. That little nickname, though typical of a parent to their daughter, was insulting and condescending to her and her reputation. Never said before by him, it definitely got under her skin.

However, her bristling fur didn’t faze him as he began to walk towards her. “Easy, now. I just saved your life,” he warned.

His daughter’s ears drew back with a soft growl, and she pushed herself to her paws with a grunt, “How are you even—”

“Real?” He finished her thought with a confident swish of his tail as he edged his snout towards her. “I’m not. To anyone but you and the dead , of course.”

She shook her pelt out, making sure to meet his eyes once she regained control of her train of thought. “Okay, well, what are you doing here?” As shocked as she was that he was able to physically appear to her and touch her like he was alive, she didn’t let it show. She played it cool.

Billy kept his stride sleek, beginning to circle her. “You’re impulsive, Sam,” he criticized, “You’re too emotional, and that’s what’s going to lead you to fail.” He studied her pelt, gently nipping at it to untangle dirt and debris from it. Of course, she flinched with sensitive winces, making him chuckle as she jerked her muzzle around when he rounded her hind end.

“Get to the point,” she snapped, irked by his judgmental antics.

He made it back to her front, dropping his tone to a much more serious tone. “You want to stop Ethan? You’ve gotta start making some decisions.” He faced her, golden eyes like plated pistols as his muzzle was only inches away from hers. “Talk to her. Tell her the truth.”

By ‘her’, he meant Tara and she knew it. History really did repeat itself. In the worst ways, of course. He was right. She was too distracted to deal with another killer, protect her family, and keep her secrets all at the same time. It was a recipe for self-sabotage. Self-destruction. “About what?” But she couldn’t jump to conclusions yet.

“That’s what you have to decide,” he answered, “About you. About me. About Ethan.” The ice in her gaze made him take a step back, showing her that he was not a threat. “I’m not your enemy here, Sam. I’m trying to help you.”

His actions spoke for his claim, which made her force her fur flat and lift her jaw in a subtle challenge. “Really?” If by helping, he meant barking orders in her head 24-damn-7, then that was a kind of help she had never heard of. “Because it feels like it’s just ‘ do this, do that. ’ Are you going to let me make my own decisions, or are you going to keep telling me how to make them?”

The gray wolf gave a low growl, “You wait for me to make them for you. Don’t you realize that?” She didn’t say anything, just shifted her weight after a moment of a failed attempt at coming up with a comeback. Now, he amped his harshness up. “This is your family we’re talking about. You hesitate too much, and without me, you’d already be far-up shit’s creek. You can’t wait for opportunities.” He then squared up to her, “Go out and take them.”

The late-night breeze ruffled their pelts and made the trees whisper in the tense silence of the pair of savage predators stalking the forest floor.

Samantha glanced at her paws, the torn skin from her figure stinging from the wind. She knew she couldn’t say much to defend herself at this point, because the truth was, she was still trying to get a handle on herself and this inner wolf she had been forced to coexist with. She heard Billy sigh, his growl gone and waiting for her to give him a response.

Once again… she was hesitating… wasting time and energy… just like he was on her back for.

“I…” Her voice had softened, low and quiet as she fought with what she should and shouldn’t say. “I just… I’m not sure how to handle all of this,” she eventually admitted, instantly cursing herself for expressing this kind of vulnerability in front of him. Yet, it was like her tongue had a mind of its own as she continued to spill, “The last time a killer was on the loose, Tara bit my head off. The time before that, she shut me out. How am I supposed to tell her that Ethan’s alive and looking for us, and that I’m part wild dog with barely any control over it?” She raised her eyes to her father. “And now I’m seeing you as more than a reflection and a voice in my head.”

He blinked at her. A neutral expression with a heavy sense of authority. A true alpha. “Prioritize.” It was simple really, but she made it so complicated. “Right now, all they need to know is that there’s another killer on the loose and hunting for you.” Oh, females were so emotional, having to make everything so much more than it needed to be. “The rest will come with time.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was submissive to him. Very submissive. That frustrating truth had come on strong once she had gained the ability to transform, leading her to blame the wolf-pack hierarchy. She had sworn she didn’t want his help. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t live with it. But reality was, he had a very leveled head. Always sleek and composed: one of the heavy, notorious characteristics of a serial killer. 

She was just the daughter of one. Many of the instincts ran in her blood, but that psychopathic ability did not. In most situations, anyway. 

In order to do this right, she needed his help, and from the look in his eyes, she guessed he was waiting for her to ask him for it. “Will you help me?” She had to force it out, the words closing up her pharynx.

Her father gave a small smirk, the one he always gave when she made the right decision. He took a step back, the moonlight filtering through the trees to highlight his pelt like one would expect of a manifested deity. “Samantha, I can give you everything you’ll need to tear that motherfucker apart,” he answered, giving the same vibe as he had the last two times when a cold-blooded killer had stalked the streets in search of her and her sister. “I can train you into a mastermind of human and wolf. I can teach you how to control it. I can show you how to unlock your full potential and wield that power for the greater good.” His golden orbs darkened to an amber as he dipped his head temptingly. “But you have to trust me above all other things.” He had only looked at one other person this way before and that was Sidney, when he had tested her to tell him what he had to do to prove that he wasn’t a killer. But even as a canine, the same look, same mannerisms, and the same voice was there. 

His pup stared at him, the temptation clearly setting in, begging for her to chase it down.

“You have to let me in.”

Her heart quickened, but why, she didn’t know. Maybe it was hope, maybe fear? Maybe it was anxiousness, or maybe it was the thrill of the hunt? Either way, she swallowed, wanting to take his word but also scared to. 

This chase wouldn’t be easy, none of them ever were. Someone was going to get hurt, they always did. But as far as a lead went, he was her best shot. 

“Fine.” 

Like usual, the house was dark with the exception of a lamp giving a soft glow from the living room as Sam slipped through the front door. Her head was pounding, and exhaustion pulled at every muscle in her body. She secured both locks on the door, before moving the small bench from the piano to its nocturnal place in a diagonal against the door and the neighboring wall, her paranoia still making her secure the doors every night without fail.

It was close to 2 AM, so it wasn’t as late as she typically stayed out, but it felt just as long. Her conversation with Billy played in her head the whole way home. Over and over and over again. Her head felt like it was about to explode, the throbbing was endless. Talking to him, anticipating talking to Tara, anticipating to then talk to the rest of the household, meeting him nightly to ‘train’, wondering where Ethan was and what he was planning…

It was so much to process, and it felt like a thousand worlds on her shoulders. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget about everything, even if it was only for a few short hours. But with how fast her mind was racing right now, she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

She gave a tired sigh, wiping her face before running her fingers through her hair as she turned around to proceed into the living room. Some of the tension that swirled in her head luckily eased once she saw Danny get up from the sofa to meet her.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted with a small smile.

But instead of stopping before him, the she-wolf closed the remaining space between them by returning his greeting with an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder. And when she felt him stroke her hair, she tightened her hold in the security his warmth granted her.

It had been one hell-of-a-night.

Her sudden display of affection was a bit abnormal, but Danny didn’t question it as he held her close, her natural scent of coconut and soft musk overlaid by coniferous trees when he placed a gentle kiss on her head. “Your home earlier than usual,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

She just nodded, blinking at the shadows on the carpet. She stayed put for a moment longer before stepping back to meet him eye-to-eye. “Thank you for being patient with me. I know it’s not easy.” She knew she was damaging her relationship with him, slowly but surely. “And I’m sorry.” She would never be able to express that appreciation enough. 

He had never tried to fix her, quit her, or slow her down. No matter how indifferent, or reckless, or careless she became, he never stopped loving her. And that was a hard pill for her to swallow, because who could ever love someone they would have to spend a lifetime studying, learning, and revisiting? 

It was him. It just took hell and high water for her to find him. 

And she was still going through hell and high water, but now she was taking him with her.

He blinked at her with the same look he’d given her countlessly, ever since he’d met her—the one that showed his attentiveness and concern, even though he didn’t know the depths of what she was saying. He had never pushed her to tell him her secrets or open-up more than she was ready to. But then, he went back to his conversation with Tara from earlier. Her words stung. A lot. However, he wasn’t a part of the tight-knit group they had tied-down in Woodsboro. He wasn’t Woodsboro . And his partner had told him that. Exactly. “It’s okay,” he replied.

“No, it’s not,” Samantha shook her head. She was too tired for her brain to actually come up with an explanation, so she just put together one that would satisfy tonight. “There are things that I just can’t talk about right now, but there are also things that I can and should’ve talked about a while ago.” She shifted her weight as she looked off, put in the same uncomfortable position she had grown accustomed to in her lifetime, “It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to anyone, and I know that. I… I’m working on it.” She locked eyes with him again, because she was serious. She had made her decision, like Billy had told her to. “I’m trying, so… please, bear with me just a little longer.”

Her boyfriend listened to her, recognizing the weakening cords in her voice that hinted at it breaking. Her eyes were glassy, but he couldn’t tell if they were teary underneath the glaze of utter exhaustion. He nodded, moving his hand to brush her hair back, then ran his knuckles gently down the side of her face, “It’s alright, Sam.” It was then that he saw the tears start to glisten on her lower eyelid.

It didn’t feel alright. She had to give him the win though, because she couldn’t go back and forth on this matter anymore than she already had. “I’ll explain what I can in the morning.”

But she did have one more thing to take care of before she could settle for the night, or… try to settle at least…

A low growling sound interrupted the quiet, leading the male’s blue eyes to drop where the noise came from: Sam’s stomach. The solemn mysteries of the night were slightly lifted by a light chuckle as he lightened the mood. “Well, for tonight, it sounds like you should eat. I can make you something, if you like” He knew it was late, but he also knew she hadn’t eaten dinner and he didn’t recall seeing her eat anything before then. “I know it’s late, but…”

However, his girlfriend just shook her head, unable to help the small upturn of her lips at his lighthearted attempt, “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” He gave a quiet “okay” in response, and she felt his hand come up to rub her side, as if easing her empty stomach that would continue to be ignored. She instinctively glanced down, the cuts and scratches from the shrubbery she raced through stinging from her clothing being pressed down by his hand. Which then reminded her, “Um… is Tara still awake?”

This may have been a stupid question, considering that it was about to be 2:00 in the morning, however Tara was notorious for going to bed at 9:00 or 10:00 but not going to sleep until late, sometimes even 3 AM. She would either be on her phone or just lay there listening to music. Sometimes she would read, but they were more like attempts to read, because she didn’t have enough self-discipline to stay engaged for longer than a couple of pages. 

Danny knew this though and glanced off in the direction of the room Tara, Chad, and Mindy shared as if he could see through the walls, “I don’t know. I talked to her right after you left, and then she went to bed.” He looked back at her. “She was really upset.” 

That hurt. A lot. All she could think of was the last thing she said to her before she jumped the gate and ran off. She couldn’t blame her younger sister for feeling the way she did or going to beat answers out of someone else. She wanted to blame it on the whole inner-wolf thing, but the reality was that it was just her seething at what she couldn’t control. 

She was helpless, and that’s what drove her crazy. It was a vulnerability. It was pathetic. It was incompetence. 

But Tara didn’t deserve that. Not after everything she had been through, including the grieving of her own relationship from when Sam left on her 18th birthday. The empty, lonely void of those five years she had faced on her own, growing up quicker than she was supposed to. That wasn’t fair to her.

And neither was Sam’s treatment of her…

“I need to talk to her,” the she-wolf thought out-loud, explaining herself because she knew she hadn’t done that very well, so far. “I said something to her I shouldn’t have, when I left… And I feel really bad about it.” Her jaw tightened with the reflex of catching emotion before it flooded into her voice.

Danny was quick to reassure her, “You’re her sister. She loves you no matter what.” He followed her as she looked up at him with an I-hope-so look, which led him to dismiss her, nodding towards the front of the house. “You can go check on her, if you want to. If she’s not awake, you can talk to her in the morning.” He curved the hand on her flank around the small of her back to pull her in and press another loving kiss to her head, before pulling back. “Okay?”

Sam nodded, managing to try and give him a reassured smile, but it didn’t come out like she had hoped. “Okay…”

He then returned the nod and removed his hand from her. “The bed’s already undone. You come to bed, when you’re ready.” As secretive as she could be, those dark eyes never lied. He could read them better than anything, even in the lowlights of the living room. “I know you’re tired.”

His partner gave him another nod, before breaking away from their conversational position. She heard the pull-string of the lamp click to eliminate all light in the room as she made it towards the front of the house and to the hallway that was straight to the left of the front door, where the remaining members of the household were. 

There were only three rooms, Chad’s game room, which they called the Blue Room directly to the left when entering the hallway, then about halfway down was a bathroom, and then straight across from the Blue Room was the bedroom that the youngest three shared, which—while technically should be called their room—was commonly referred to as the Green Room because of the pale, grayish-green walls.

She kept her footsteps as quiet as she could while making her way down the hall, but the house was aged so the wood floors creaked at the worst times. She met the door and silently opened it, the inevitable click of the latch piercing the soft swishing of the overhead fan as she peered in.

All three inhabitants were fast asleep, the subtle glow of the nightlight on the far wall giving a peaceful ambience that showed their silhouettes: Mindy in the bed directly facing the door, Chad on the air mattress in front of the closet that was against the wall that the door shared, and Tara in the bed farthest away. The one parallel to Mindy’s. 

Sam blinked through the halflight at her, but it was obvious she was turned away, facing the wall like she was still mad, even though she was asleep. And that sight alone made the decision clear that she would have to talk to her in the morning. 

That is, if she even wanted to hear it…

Her older sister sighed and backed out of the room, silently shutting the door to turn around and make-way back across the house to where her shared room with Danny was. 

Halfway down the hallway, the grandfather clock rang out, striking the 2:00 AM hour. It simultaneously blended with a chime from her phone in her back pocket.

A text tone.

Who in the hell would text her at 2 in the morning?

She paused in the pitch-black corridor and reached behind her to pull out her phone. It lit up to reveal a name and a message. A name she knew all too well but hadn’t heard from directly in 18 months. From a ghost in a small town, to an undeleted contact, to a cover-up caller, to 1-out-of-3 dead murderers… 

Her blood ran cold.

Richie Kirsch .

But that couldn’t be possible. Could it? Ethan was alive, but surely, he was too smart to pull the same trick twice? Wasn’t he?

But this wasn’t a call. This was a text. And the message sent was one that only an ex-lover would send. 

But how? Richie was dead. 

Gone. 

Forever. 

Right?

Now, wide awake, Samantha’s eyes reflected the notification, reading it over and over again, with her heart picking up its pace every time she did so, that familiar sense of haunt rising through her.

She could hear it come from his lips like he was purring it in her ear behind her, in the darkness of the hallway, at the solitary hour of 2:00 AM, and she knew right then and there… This was where it all began.

‘What’s up girl, how you been?’

TAGLIST:

@alphawolfstabs @fantasylandbitch @bowergirlwitch @thisonewhocanbreathe @atcarpenter let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates on this fic!

All my best! 🩶

- parker (BWS)

[saintsofwarding]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Header by @trout-scout​

Chapter 25: A Family Feud

Chris Redfield woke with a start and a headache like the mother of all hangovers. For a moment he lay there, blinking, staring up at a shadowy wooden ceiling, a single brass lantern swinging from a hook above. Why was it swinging? Why was he lurching? With effort, he turned his head, the light sending shards of glass down his optic nerve. He made out the patchwork quilt tucked around him, the too-narrow bunk he lay in, a clutter of canvas rucksacks, crates, and wooden chests stacked around the confines of the small room.

And the woman sitting by his bedside, watching him with eyes that glimmered lycan-green when the light struck them.

Chris's heart-rate slowed as he breathed, in and out, the fog in his brain clearing by the moment. A wet pain throbbed on the back of his head.

He took a deep breath.

"You," he said, "hit me."

Teodora gave a low laugh. "Sorry about that. I would have chosen a nicer way to incapacitate you, but...my options were limited."

He remembered coming to, watching Rose call in the Hound Wolf Squad, watching her climb aboard the BOW- Dimitrescu's- back and take to the skies. He had a pretty damn good idea where she was headed, too.

His heart clenched inside him, a knot of real, aching pain in the pit of his chest. It was that old familiar feeling, that inexorable slip deeper into darkness. Another loss, another death. Another failure. Yeah, he'd always keep fighting- at this point, he didn't think he was capable of anything else- but he'd be deluding himself if he said it didn't take a toll on him. Every single time.

Once Rose and the bioweapons had gone, Teodora had fed him a sedative, conking him out for good. He still tasted its bitter tang on the backs of his teeth.

"And you drugged me," he went on.

"I'm afraid so. I couldn't have you slipping your bonds while we were mid-evacuation. No offense, but I didn't have the time to deal with you if you got...difficult."

With a nod, Chris glanced at his surroundings again. Now, he heard the rumble of wheels, the clop of horses' hooves. The air smelled of mud and medicine and polished wood. "This some kind of wagon?"

"Indeed."

"Where are we?"

"About five kilometers outside my town, into the deep, dark Romanian forest. I can get you the coordinates from your team, if you'd like. They're right outside."

So the Hound Wolf Squad was okay. Thank God for that, at least. "I guess Rose put you up to this, huh? Knocking me out?"

"It was a joint effort."

He let out his breath. "Don't screw around with me-"

"Listen, Redfield," Teodora said, cutting him off. "I know you see her as a child, as some kind of burden of responsibility for you to wear a hair shirt over, but she's more than that. She's far less human than I am."

Chris heaved upright, suddenly. "She's still a child. My friends' child. And I-" Agony flared through his skull and he clenched his teeth, dropping to one elbow on the narrow cot. His vision pulsed white and red.

After a beat, there came the sound of dripping water. A cool cloth pressed to his forehead, its scent bittersweet with some kind of herbal tincture. Teodora daubed his face, gently, her lashes lowered, her brow furrowed. This close, Chris could get a better look at her as he waited for the pain and nausea to fade.

Get up, soldier, he urged himself. You have a job to do. He didn't. The movement of the wagon was lulling.

The veins of crystal on Teodora's face looked like they split her skin open, looked like they ran straight down to the bone. The skin around them looked ashen, almost dead, her curls brittle and gray. Shit, the parasite had done a number on her.

He thought of Jill and shuddered. The world was full of so many horrors, and far too many of them had been wrought on his friends. And on him. All his years of fighting biohazards, of fighting good men made into monsters, bad ones who sought to become them. All those who had died under his watch, or been turned, or been irreparably transformed. All the way back to the first, to him so young, so sure of himself. The Spencer mansion, and that night of fear, and of betrayal.

The world had changed, that night. It had changed him. And it lived on, and would live forever, if only in his nightmares, if only in the faces of those who had been forced to endure far more than was fair.

"You what?" Teodora prompted, after a few minutes of silence. "Lost her? Maybe the mission wasn't yours to lose."

"Fuck you. You don't understand a damn thing about it."

"Don't I? This place is my home, Redfield. I grew up here, on the same earth as my ancestors before me. I died here. And now Rose wants to save it." The corner of her mouth hitched up in a fanged smile. "The Black God's heir herself. Who am I to deny a god?"

"To save it by dealing with monsters."

"And that's it, then? Like a story cooked up to comfort children at night? The brave hero, with sword ablaze, slicing away shadows to slay the terrible monsters. I'm afraid we don't have many tales so cut and dry out here."

"Is that what your townspeople think, too? Is that what you tell them? I saw your shrine in the catacombs. The warding saint, gilded and worshipped. Do you tell them what you really are?"

"I told them the truth," Teodora said. "What Lord Heisenberg did for me. What he did for Rosemary. And they all saw the rest. We're not all like Miranda."

"So why aren't you?"

"You think I'm capable of what Miranda did?"

"You tell me."

She traced the antler grip of a worn silver pistol at her belt. It was a moment before she spoke. When she did, her voice was hard, and sounded far older than even her mutated and mortal lives together would account for.

"I made a promise, when I was very young," she said. "That I would never let those I love come to harm. That I would destroy myself for that love. That I meant nothing, in the grand scheme of god and nature, and was thus removed from it. But I was wrong. Ever since Lord Heisenberg saved my life, I've had a...a lot of time to think about the conditions of my own immortality."

She paused again, her gaze faraway.

"I believe the Cadou enhances what is already inside us," she said. "It binds us monsters together. And while such a connection can prove disastrous in the hands of someone so tortured with grief and pain, they can only ever search for a way to free themselves from that pain...it can be...miraculous, too. A drive to live. A drive toward the divine. The true divine. That which is in each other. To reach out in the dark, and find a hand reaching back."

"And that's Heisenberg to you?"

A faint smile touched her face. "If I could love anyone, it would be him," she said, softly. "He gave me a piece of God. He made me into a piece of God."

Teodora looked back to him.

"All I want is to keep my people safe," she told him. "You shouldn't insult their faith, Redfield. Miranda's cult may have ended badly for her, but the Black God was around long, long before she was even a flutter in the depths of its dreams."

Chris let out a grim laugh. "I still think you're all delusional."

"Maybe you're right. But you should be glad now we were here at all."

"Guess I should." He lifted one hand from the blankets. "And I guess we were never properly introduced."

"Teodora Balan," she said, taking his hand.

He shook it. "Chris Redfield." He let her hand go. "Am I a prisoner here?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then I need to go."

"Go?"

"Help Rose. Even if you're right, and she can get the Four Lords under control, there's still Ouroboros to contend with. And they'll riddle her with bullets first chance they get. They're not after her anymore."

He levered himself upright; stars went off in his head, but whatever herb was in that poultice had worked some real magic, because he could move now without too much pain or nausea. Teodora helped him, her hands on his shoulders, supporting him as if he might fall again.

"And if you find her?" she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you gonna stop her? Stop all of them?"

He looked at her. She looked, steadily, back. "I have to," he said at last. "It's my job. My duty."

"Then saints help you, Redfield," Teodora told him. "You're gonna need it."

"Is that a threat?"

Teodora looked at him. Really looked.

She said, "No. I grew up with stories of the monsters of the Black God's valley, remember, and I like to think I know a thing or two about them. The Four Lords are at their full power now, Redfield. Four mutants of unparalleled strength, working as one. What makes you think you'll be able to stop them?"

"Experience," Chris told her.

"Experience," Teodora echoed. She laughed in disbelief. "Do you have any idea of what they're really capable of?"

***

The village reservoir spread beyond the snow-clouds, mist whipped to a froth by the V-22's twin rotors.

The aircraft's searchlights speared down, illuminating the remnants of water, the old fishing village clinging to the dry lake's shore, the once-sunken houses thick with decay and choked with mud. The soldiers aboard monitored their equipment,monitored the scanners, waiting for any sign of stumbling, limping movement.

The bioweapon known as Lord Moreau was supposed to be here, in its once-time territory; he'd be little effort to subdue, if Heisenberg was right and he was as pathetic as claimed. He didn't sound like much of a threat, and the photos provided by Winters years back confirmed this: a ruin of tumorous flesh and oozing orifii, better suited to weeping than combat.

Still, the men mumbled, trading weary looks, Regan seemed to think the creature's acidic discharge had potential merit, and, as such, their orders were to locate and subdue by any means necessary. They even had a tank lined with a base solution for the purpose, and stun batons.

And missiles.

And anti-mutant bullets.

Just in case.

"Ugly bastard won't know what's hit him," one of the commandos told the other, and chuckled, watching the glitter of red moonlight off the surface of the lake.

"Approaching target zone." The pilot's voice crackled over the intercom, and the men stood at attention, rifles in hand. So far, this place looked dismal- the ruins of several large windmills reared from the muck, scaffolding exposed thanks to the decade of decay and weather that had ravaged this part of town.

And the smell. What the hell was that? It rose even to these heights, twining into the V-22 and threatening to stay there forever. Rotten fish, and bile, and something else, something that might have been just the essence of pure sickness.

Well. Whatever it was, at least they wouldn't have to endure it for long.

"Where the fuck is he?" another commando muttered, scanning the lakebed through the HUD of his high-tech combat helmet.

"Probably off crying somewhere," another said.

"What would a BOW have to cry about?"

"Dunno, didn't Winters say he was a sensitive sort?"

A tremor cut through their conversations, juddering the V-22 on its flight path. The rotors whined, and all eyes faced south- not toward any sign of a shambling BOW, but toward the vast brick sluice-gate that fenced off the reservoir from the lake beyond.

"What the hell?" muttered the pilot, in the cockpit.

The gate was- it was opening. With a rumbling, grinding roar, it lifted, vast gears ratcheting in their sockets- perfectly-made, as if by a master of metal- and through it, leaping, churning, rushing in swirls of foam, came water. All the water that had once filled the reservoir. It gushed back into place, countless tons of dark water lashing to the far shore, rising, slopping up the shoreline, then settling, once more, at home.

It covered their view of the once-again-drowned village below, the houses once more sunken, the reservoir returned to its original state. With a creak, one of the windmills began to turn again- a broken, stilted movement, half its sails missing. Still, it struck an eerie chord in the soldiers, battle-hardened though they were.

"I thought this place was supposed to be abandoned," the copilot muttered.

"It is. Except for the freak. Now it's gonna be a real fucking trip trying to find him." The pilot shook her head, chewed her lip, then made an executive decision. "We're gonna have to descend. It'll be a needle in a haystack locating a fish-man in a lake at this altitude."

"What do you think raised the gate?" The copilot's hushed tones pricked at the pilot's nerves. This wasn't a freaking girl scout camp.

"Jesus, how much of a pussy are you?" she snapped. "Probably just an electrical malfunction. Maybe the freak thought it would fend us off." She snorted. "Let's hurry this up, okay? I got a bunk with my name on it back at camp."

"I got a bunk with your name on it, too, sweet cheeks," called one of the other soldiers.

The pilot, with practiced speed, flipped him off.

She eased the joystick forward. The rotors increased in speed as the V-22 cruised lower, breaking fully through the clouds and into the haze of noxious mist that swirled, thick and greenish, from the surface of the reinstated lake. Even through their helmets, it stung the eyes, thickened the throat, brought acid to the tongue.

The pilot checked the chopper's air filtration system, but the readouts didn't indicate anything so toxic they'd have to leave.

"That's better," the pilot said as she evened out the chopper. "Isn't it?"

They now flew some thirty feet above the water. The searchlight illuminated the dark water, murky enough that past a couple yards visibility dissolved once more into straight-up pea soup. Hands tightened on rifles; the radar beeped, constantly scanning the area for the first sign of movement. So far there was nothing. Fish, a couple lycans near the shoreline. No sign of anything big enough to be Moreau.

"Come on," a commando whispered. "Come on. Where is it?"

"This is bullshit," the pilot sang.

The scanner bleeped.

"Shit," the copilot said. "Look at that."

"Look at what?"

"Something big. It's sitting down near the bottom." His eyes danced as he adjusted the scanner, trying to clear the picture. The pilot's pulse thudded in her throat. "It's fucking gigantic. What the hell is that-"

"Is it Moreau?" Regan had said the BOW was supposed to be relatively small, right? Six foot tall or thereabouts? She hazarded a glance at the scanner. The shape rippling on the dark screen, eerie as a distorted reflection, was a lot bigger than six feet. The shape was roughly the length of the V-22.

Despite herself, a chill arced down her spine.

Fuck, she hated this place.

"I...I think-" He let out a sudden laugh. The pilot's hands flexed on the controls. "Shit. False alarm. Look, it's a boat."

"A boat. Are you shitting me."

"No, no- must have been sitting in the town and we just missed it when the reservoir was dry. Hah, wouldn't that be crazy if-"

"Shit!" the pilot screamed.

The shape bloomed on the scanner, sudden as a heart attack. In a flash and a throb of pure, gutting dread, the pilot understood. It had been sitting atop the boat, hovering over it, using its radar shadow to hide, but now it was moving.

Fast.

Movement detected, the scanner said, in its flat mechanical voice. Movement detected.

It blossomed on the screen, bigger than the boat, bigger than the V-22, and getting bigger by the second.

In the main bay, all eyes were on the water, on the vast dark shape rocketing toward the surface- the water glassed, surface tension stretching tight as a drumhead over-

"Mother of God," whispered a soldier.

"I don't think that's what God's mother looks like," said another, nervously.

"We're going up!" shouted the pilot. "Hold onto your-"

The water exploded.

An eruption of white, of mud, of black water. The sound was cataclysmic, a roar of waves and booming pressure as the thing threw itself in a full-body lunge toward the V-22.

A horror. A monster. A fisherman's nightmare, manifest. A machine of diseased flesh and pulpy, swollen pustules, of countless rolling eyes and clawed fins flaring, it rocketed from the water and toward the helicopter hovering overhead. A roar thundered through the wind, and as its foreparts split wide into a tooth-lined, four-lobed flower roped with acid and saliva, its hungry throat pulsating in anticipation, some of the commandos on the V-22 thought they heard gibbering laughter, wild as a madman's, gleeful as a child's.

Bullets sprayed down. The rotors screamed as the pilot fired the V-22's engines, trying to heave the aircraft out of the reach of the lunging monster. All too late. Lord Moreau's jaws closed around the helicopter, enfolding it almost lovingly. Metal screamed, and buckled, and crumpled like a tin can; the rotors caught fire in a flare of sparks and white flames, the entire aircraft crunched and folded into the monster's maw.

Three snaps; a gulping flexion of the muscles at his throat. His scaly, piscine hide glistened in the moonlight; his eyes rolled in pleasure.

Did you ever think I could do something so amazing, Miranda? he thought. I love you, but you never would have let me be as cool as this while you were still alive.

He arced down, crashing back to the black water, and in a final gout of spray and crumpling metal, both Lord Salvatore Moreau and the V-22 alike were gone.

Nothing was left but the glimmer of moonlight on the water, and, after a few seconds, bobbing to the surface with a bloop: a single, gnawed combat helmet, the cracked remnants of its HUD still blinking out a final warning.

***

It had been ever so long since House Beneviento received visitors.

Donna moved from room to ruined room, her step a light tap against splintered floorboards and crumbled walls, making certain all was ready. Making certain all was right. The air was full of haze- the snowfall, yes, the mist, but ash, too. Karl's factory was burning, and it filled the air with ash like gray snow, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue, a rime like tears against her pale skin.

Angie scampered after her, giggle trailing through the rooms.

"We'll never get this cleaned up," she said, sing-song, kicking aside a broken piece of crockery. Her mother's favorite tea set, smashed to pieces. "We'll have to work a million zillion years to get this all put back together again."

Donna paused by a shattered window, watching the devastation in the village below. The Rose-monster, the flare of its vast black wings shadowing flashes of gunfire.

Rose, she thought. Her niece. Her family. Her friend.

She thought of Claudia, then. It was impossible not to. Rose was a little like her, she thought. Or perhaps it had been so long since Claudia had died that any quality she loved retroactively became her sister's.

Donna tried to remember Claudia's face. The abstractions were still there. The black hair, so often tied in twin braids, as was the style in the village. The blunt fringe. The dear, sweet eyes, dark and wide-set. Her laugh. The years had not stolen that, and it echoed, clear and vivid as ever, through the wending halls of her memory. But the details were...blurred. A photograph left in the rain. An old record, music scratched on the edges, winding down and down into silence.

A grave, its epitaph worn away by snow, by time, until it could no longer be read.

The sound of her voice, the precise shape of her face, the feeling of her small hands in Donna's own as she bent her head to Claudia's to hear her sister's whisper- they were all gone, now, all taken away. Claudia was dead. She had died so long ago. Perhaps the Black God remembered her, dreamed of her. Perhaps not.

Whatever it dreamed of would not be the same as her beloved little sister. And it would not come back, either. Her Cadou had not taken to her. Her bones had not turned to crystal. She did not sleep as Donna had slept.

She was gone.

"Gone, gone, gone," Angie gabbled, an echo of her thoughts.

The word, and its reality, settled into her. The grief rose, fresh as ever, and seized her so hard her lips parted and she gasped, the sound a raw, wet rasp, like a knife in flesh. For a moment, held in its grip, she felt alive. She felt her hands, her nerves. Her bones, the echo of her heartbeat through them. The dreaming-murmur of her Cadou, sweet parasite, her sole companion besides the shattered pieces of herself she'd gathered close and called her own, enclosing them within dolls so she might have something to hold in the dark that was not her own lonely body.

Now, that body held her in turn. She was in it, in it only. In this moment, not in the past. In this moment, whole.

"I am alive," she whispered.

"You're cracking up, Donna," Angie said.

"Yes. I know."

"I love you. You know that too, right?"

She had said the same to Donna as Ethan Winters had stumbled through the basement, as he'd dragged himself, shaking and sweating and out of his mind, up the elevator and into the main house. He was coming, Donna knew.

And when he did, he would kill her.

And even if Miranda's control had lapsed and given Donna the chance to escape, she didn't think she would have tried. He'd caught up to her a couple times as he rampaged through the house; the scissors had sliced out, gashing into her side, into the palm she'd raised on reflex as if to fend him off. She'd run away, her body battling to survive even though her mind didn't desire the same, leaving smears of blood on wall and banister in her stumbling haste.

At last, exhausted, in shock, bleeding out, she'd collapsed near the front doors. As Ethan crashed closer, closer, fighting off wave after wave of her hallucinations, scissors in his hand, their rusty blades singing against the air, Donna had gathered Angie in her arms and held her to her heart as tight as she could.

"I love you," Angie told her, then. "I always will."

"I love you, too," Donna had said, and then Ethan was on her, and then-

The cold air stung her face. She blinked as an explosion lit the skies, painting the house's rubble in shades of flame-orange and sunset-red. Artillery fire. They were trying to shoot Rose down. They were trying to kill her.

Donna drew a deep breath of the cold, ashy air, holding Claudia in her heart, bidding her, for the moment, goodbye. The grief lay back down again. Sleeping again. It would wake, she knew, sometime, some way.

But it could not wake again now. For Rose's sake.

For all of their sakes.

Years she'd spent in this house. Wretched, beloved. A cage, a womb. Years she'd drifted, not alive, not dead, as ever walking between. Hovering on the edge of life and death, on the edge of the cliff with the waterfall raging around her, seconds from going over. Balanced there, split between dolls' eyes and her single own.

Now, she drifted again.

A flutter of consciousness, divided.

Her vision became prismatic, became fractured, like a broken mirror, each shard reflecting a different view. Dolls in the trees, dolls hidden between the rocks. Each with a fetal presence curled in their hollow heads, or in their horsehair-stuffed chests. Some were stuffed with her own hair, trimmed away by Angie with the very scissors that would later slip through the seams of her skull and enter, cold as a corpse's kiss, into her frontal lobe.

Now, the dolls rustled. They whispered. Each with her voice.

Coming...coming...coming...

They watched.

The crackle of branches and boots through snow echoed up the winding mountain path that led to the Beneviento estate. A strike team of a half-dozen soldiers, led by a lean woman in black combat gear with a rifle at the ready. Each member of the team wore a full-face gas mask, an advanced-looking thing made of clear polymer and carbon fiber gleaming dully in the red moonlight. A few lycans snarled and lunged, but with a hammer of gunfire and a muzzle flash like lightning, they were dealt with quick enough.

Flashlight beams, mounted on the team's rifles, swept the path. It was less a road and more a thin, twisted trail leading between two sheer cliff faces, a ravine blanketed in deep, unbroken snow; only a trace of moonlight made it down to the path's depths, touching the dense canopy of bare-limbed trees growing above, branch entwined with branch as if holding hands.

"Spooky," muttered one of the soldiers.

Cal, leading the group, rolled her eyes. "Can't handle a little darkness?"

This mountain ravine, according to the local history they'd all swotted up on, had been the site of a ghost story or two in its time- a great, swollen graveyard filling every spare inch of soil with bones. Some kind of flu epidemic, back in the day, with so many dead the churchyard in town could not support their weight.

Now, it was overgrown, the path so thickly knotted with roots and briars and thorny, mutant vines that as they pushed on, the commandos had to shoulder their rifles and resort to combat knives and machetes to hack their way through.

Still, Cal could see the graves.

They were everywhere she looked: rising from the undergrowth, from the snow, some broken like old teeth, weathered and cracked and glistening with ice. A labyrinth of gravestones, leading on and on and on through the dark old forest.

They weren't the weird part. The weird part was the dolls.

Standing atop graves. Sprawled in niches between tangled root-masses. Perched on rock shelves, staring down as the advancing group. Hanging from the trees themselves, tiny nooses for tiny necks. Their eyes gleamed, dull and glassy, each gaze identical. Dark eyes, doll eyes, doll faces, porcelain scabbed with lichen and grime.

"Beneviento's dolls," Cal said, with a pout. "I hate dolls."

"I can clear 'em out for you," said one of her men.

In one fluid movement, Cal drew her sidearm and fired. One of the dolls exploded in a burst of porcelain shards.

"I think I can handle a few dolls, thanks," she said, holstering the pistol again.

The wind picked up. It rushed through the trees; they creaked and groaned, the sound echoing from the forest, from the oncoming mist, twining insidious through dead brush and dark trunks. Chasing the groan-

Was that a scream? Maybe the echo of one.

Deep down, Cal felt the thud of her heartbeat, liquid in her ears. The shadows seemed darker than before, their depths unfathomable. Nothing moved as the wind settled, as the mist rose higher, swirling through their flashlight beams opaque as milk.

"Get a move on," Cal said. Her voice sounded thin in the silence, muffled through her helmet. She checked her wrist monitor. No sign of particulates; no breaches in the mask. This was so stupid. "Come on!"

They pushed upwards, winding higher, higher, passing through the great graveyard and over a suspension bridge that clung to life by a few rotting wood-scraps and nails. Beyond, the mist had thickened, obscuring their view of the village and the castle; even the flames from the burning factory were hidden, nothing more than a vague glow, then lost altogether. The world became darkness, became the thin spears of their flashlight beams, became the echoes of the team's breathing mirrored and amplified on an endless feedback loop through the comms.

Snow crumbled from a rock-shelf.

Flashlights whipped toward it. Bullets cratered the rock.

"What the hell?" Cal snapped.

"Sorry-" The soldier's eyes were wide behind his gas mask. "I saw something move, ma'am-"

"What?"

"I...I don't know- something small-"

"If you just fired on a fucking raccoon-"

Another rattle of bullets; Cal whirled in a haze of snow. Something- skittered. That was the only word for it. A flashing, jerking movement. A rasping sound- laughter? Or just crumbling rocks? She searched the darkness.

"That wasn't a raccoon," said the first soldier.

"Whatever it was, it's dead now." Cal eyed the spatter of dark liquid on the snow, then checked her monitor again, tapping the map function, the green pips that marked each of her team members blinking on the illuminated grid. "We're almost there."

Through an ornate wrought-iron gate that led to a tangled, overgrown garden. The elevator in the gatehouse in a clearing beyond- dominated by a single massive grave also infested with more dolls-  flickered its lights, then went dead. They ended up rappelling up the cliff and over, and at last the Beneviento house rose before them.

A wreck. A ruin. It looked like a dollhouse subjected to a shotgun blast; a massive crater gaped in its front, the yard a swath of shattered wood and glass and insulation. Cal's boots crunched on porcelain, on the twisted frames of torn-apart paintings, on a spray of silver buttons spilled from a jar, winking like the dolls' eyes in their flashlight beams. The waterfall thundered beyond, a constant rush in her blood, a pressure in her nerves.

"Lady Beneviento!" she called, signaling for her team to fan out, train their rifles on as much ground as they could. "We can do this one of two ways. Either you surrender yourself quietly, or we hunt you down. It's your choice-"

Scuttling footsteps.

A wicked shriek of scratchy laughter, echoing around them, grating as a knife against bone, as a skipping record.

Movement slashed from nowhere; Cal stumbled back as metal sheared through her flashlight beam. It was- fuck, it was a doll, its face dripping with black liquid, its porcelain mouth wide as if in glee. Blades unfurled from beneath its ruffled skirts, spiders' legs of rusted metal and nicked, gore-clotted knives.

One lashed out, screeching over her gas mask's face plate; she jerked away, but the gash appeared anyway, a single deep scar in the clear polymer.

Breach detected, her wrist monitor said. Breach detected. Seal immediately to prevent particulate contamination. Breach detected-

She backhanded the doll away with the barrel of her gun; it hit the snow and scuttled off on those nightmarish metal legs. Around her: more screams, more demented laughter from many small, porcelain throats, endless and awful, looping around and around and around. Gunfire lit the night, but in the mist, in the crossing, askew flashlight beams, Cal couldn't get a fix on what was happening. It was chaos, it was madness, the darkness a whirl of light and shadow and thrashing movement. She flinched as blood spurted, as it splattered her gas mask in glistening red-

"Fall back!" she shouted. "Fall back! That's an..."

Her voice trailed away.

The house loomed before her, the red moon full and bright, cutting out in sharp relief the house's many gabled roofs, its spires and weathervanes. Cal blinked as her gun barrel dipped. It was...it was whole again. That was...impossible. Right? It was a smashed ruin, not an intact manor. But...then again...the night was dark, the mist thick. Maybe she'd gotten it wrong.

She took a step toward the house. Behind her echoed shouts, screams for help. A hand reached from the mist, smeared in blood, missing a finger as if it had been bitten clean off at the root; a rusty blade arced from the mist and impaled it straight through the wrist, dragging it back into the dark with one neat flick and a peal of childish laughter.

Cal didn't see it. She didn't hear it. Her rifle dangled loosely from her hand as she mounted the house's steps, as she pushed her way through the carved double doors, as she stood in the warmth of the hall beyond.

The lamps were dim, stoking the burnished wood panels of the walls to a ruddy glow. Everywhere was comfort- worn leather, brocade and velvet cushions, doll-making supplies in baskets tied with ribbons. A clock ticked, and a fire crackled in its grate, visible through an open door to a homey kitchen. Cal smelled flowers, and wood polish, and warm, unfamiliar spices. Something bitter, too, in the back of her throat, but then again it might have been the age of the house, and all old places had their eccentricities.

A slow smile spread over her face as gentle heat flowed through her chest, easing away all her fears, all her lingering worries. There was nothing to be afraid of here. Nothing at all.

She took another step forward, boots silent on the carpets. A slim, black-clad figure sat in an old-fashioned rocking chair, her back to Cal. She rocked, slowly, back and forth, humming a low tune as she sipped from her teacup.

On a small table at her side:

A bud vase held a single sprig of bright yellow flowers.

A floorboard creaked under Cal's next step. The woman in black stopped rocking. A beat- and then she turned. Pale face, hair in an elegant knot. A single dark eye.

The other eye was swollen with writhing, tumorous flesh. In her lap sat a doll in a wedding dress, slumped like a small corpse.

The woman in black smiled gently at Cal.

"Welcome to House Beneviento," she said. Behind Cal, in the entryway, in the shadows, scratching, scratching in the pit of her skull- rusty blades, rusty laughter, the click and scrape of porcelain limbs and hands and snapping teeth, coming, coming, coming for her.

"We hope you'll stay forever," Donna said, and lifted her cup. Angie giggled, wickedest of them all. "Tea?"

***

"What a nightmare," Regan muttered.

He stood before the gates to Castle Dimitrescu. Flames flickered in heavy stone sconces, illuminating the carvings on the massive, overblown thing.

It rose in Gothic spires toward the dark mass of the castle beyond, while souls screamed as they plummeted toward perdition. On the gates themselves, open wide, like a mouth, a relief of a snarling demon battled a much smaller girl with a sword.

Like the warrior maiden in the town square, probably some kind of figure from local legend, a warden against the 'endless dark' of the valley's religion.

Obvious. Tacky. And in the light from the recently-kindled flames, ghoulish.

Regan did his best to not get sentimental about the bioweapons he dealt with on the daily. It was impossible, in his line of work. The scientists that developed the various horrors Ouroboros sold to their various clients were wont to...well, maybe 'romanticize' wasn't the right word when discussing musclebound monstrosities of mutant flesh, but they definitely tended to wax poetical about their power and majesty, that they were the next step on evolution's path, that they had broken through the bonds of mere flesh and into some kind of bullshit realm of the divine.

Whatever. Where Regan was concerned, all he cared about was how much the BOW would sell for, how big a hassle it would be to deal with, and, if push came to shove, how many bullets it would take to kill it.

Now, as he stared up at Castle Dimitrescu, a moldering heap of rock and overwrought fifteenth-century decor, he at least had to marvel at the novelty. In all his years of executing bioweapons, he'd never had to slay a vampire before.

"She's damn near impossible to kill," Heisenberg had explained. "Regenerates like a bitch and will claw you up something fierce, too. So don't look too tasty."

Now, surrounded by his strike team, Regan heaved a sigh.

"Let's just get this over with," he announced. "Don't let the Halloween trappings get to your heads. This creature, this so-called 'Lady Dimitrescu', is a bioweapon. Nothing more. And each and every one of you have dealt with bioweapons. So we do what we trained to, and bring the creature down."

A roar from the flying monster echoed up the path, filling the air with its tremor. An answering explosion came moments later, like aftershock. An artillery shot. He didn't expect Heisenberg to return with Winters' remains, nor Mia, either, but he'd keep up the bargain as long as it was necessary, and practical.

And if-miracle of miracles- the BOW came back with the remains?

Well, that was fine with Regan. This whole operation was a shitshow from day one. Babysitting Mia, babysitting Heisenberg in its stupid little jar onboard the ship, dealing with the fallout of the failed Embryo project. After this, he was demanding a pay raise, and smashing in the teeth of anyone who pushed back.

"Move out," he ordered, and together, he and his men trooped through the demon's gates and toward the castle itself.

Had he still been a child and in public school, he likely would have been forced to go on a field trip to some dismal wreck like this. The long, curving path to the main doors was clotted by some kind of organic matter, frogspawn slime coating the curtain walls and old vineyards in a layer of greenish muck. Lord Moreau's work, Regan guessed; it melted readily enough under the application of one of his soldiers' flamethrowers.

The great front doors, studded with bolts in the shapes of crosses, came open with a crack and a heave, and shuddered wide onto a dark entryway, dust drifting in the air. Flashlights clicked on. The beams glanced off a portrait of three women in antique gowns, dust drifting in midair, Baroque gilt swirling in intricate floral patterns on every visible surface.

The blizzard howled against the windows, rattling the glass in its frames.

"Not exactly Brides of Dracula material, are they?" one of his men said, examining the girls' rosy-cheeked faces.

"Daughters of Dracula," Regan said absently.

"Huh?"

"The BOW created daughters for itself, way back when." The idea was a tantalizing one. A self-proliferating bioweapon. There were plenty of BOWs that implanted others with parasites, not to mention the classic T-virus infection spreading via fluid transfer, but it took a smart monster to make smart mutants.

As they moved deeper into the castle, Regan imagined the possibilities. Mia had spilled the details on the three Dimitrescu 'daughters' when she'd first come into their employ with plenty of stolen BSAA files in tow, and he'd listened with rapt fascination. He'd never heard of sentient fly-swarms before, and the potential applications for such a unique phenomenon on the bioterrorism circuit were endless. Most of Ouroboros' bioweapons were the typical smash smash, kill kill type- tyrants, the Embryo, big mouths with lots of teeth, et cetera. But a creature like the daughters could be used for espionage, for assassinations, especially in warmer climates where they would be virtually unkillable.

And Dimitrescu herself would know all the details on how to make them. Sure, she'd resist. But once a technician cracked open her skull and put a restraining bolt on her brain? She would crumble like a sandcastle under a tidal wave.

As if on cue-

Footsteps echoed through the castle. Heavy as a tolling bell. The silence between each footstep was long, to say the least. The stride of a massive woman, somewhere in the maze of rooms and halls and vaults.

His pulse quickened. He always craved the beginning of each hunt, the moment when his vision narrowed and the cold bloodlust set in. And when his quarry was as powerful as the one he hunted now? All the better.

"She's in here," he said. "I can feel it."

He ran his hand over his rifle, the anti-mutant bullets chambered within, and the special bullets, too. Filled to the brim with the same suppressant they'd shot Heisenberg with.

"You want to take this one, boss?" another of his men said with a laugh.

Regan grinned. "Always."

He had to admit this place had presence. Antique wood, and austere stone, walls rising to distant vaulted ceilings glimmering with gilt and pagan iconography. Everywhere, even through the remnants of slime coating them, artworks gleamed or shone or glittered- priceless pottery, silver statuettes, portraits and landscapes painted by old masters.

He even recognized the work of the famed, reviled, heretic craftsman Norshteyn, a Russian madman who'd vanished sometime in the nineteenth century only to, according to a small book on a dais nearby, end up dying in this very village.

Imagine, Regan thought, with a droll shudder.

Castle Dimitrescu played host to them all, a place of stately decadence swathed in burgundy velvet and old-testament imagery. Shame it would all rot and fall to ruin after Ouroboros cleared its mistress out.

At last, his team entered a main hall, a grand staircase winding up, and up, and up toward a mezzanine high above.

Like a throat, he thought unbidden, eyeing the staircase. The gullet of some enormous beast. Echoes played off the parquet floor, up to the rafters that soared to cathedral heights far overhead. A beslimed, once-ornate chandelier floated in the darkness, long strings of calcified muck drifting in the keening draught.

There was no sign of Dimitrescu.

"Where is she?" one of his soldiers muttered.

"Quiet." Regan stood, and listened. Somewhere, echoing from the dark depths of the castle, he heard-

Was that music?

It was. A classical piece, devilish, sinister, and lush, played with abandon on a tinny old turntable. He recognized it after a few seconds. Saint-Saens. Danse Macabre.

Despite himself, a trickle of annoyance coursed through Regan's nerves. Did this creature think it could play with them?

He didn't have time for this.

"Lady Dimitrescu," he announced. "I know you can hear me. Just as I know you realize the gravity of the situation at hand. There's no need for further bloodshed, as I'm sure you'll agree. Your family is divided. Your siblings, if one can call them that, are already apprehended, or dead. You will be next, whether you resist or not."

He fell silent. The music played on. The dance of death. No matter who we are, the dance unites us all.

Dimitrescu did not appear.

Regan lifted his eyebrows, then unsheathed his combat knife and stabbed it deep into the white and gold porcelain of a large Art Nouveau urn standing nearby, decorated with a motif of dancing maidens.

The blade slid in to the hilt, right over one of the maidens' eyes. With a twist of his wrist, a wrenching crack, the urn shattered, the peal of its fragments against the stone parquet tiles clashing loud as gunfire through the castle. Echoes resounded, lapping on, and on, and on, until, at last, they trickled into silence.

Regan sheathed his knife, lifting his rifle once more, waiting for the first sign of movement, the first gleam of pallid flesh.

Silence. It really was silent, he realized.

The music was gone.

"Not long now," he whispered. Two of his men exchanged looks, rifles aimed outward, trained on all the exits and entrances.

From deep in the castle-

Footsteps.

Boom. Boom. Boom. They circled the hall, vibrating through the walls. They circled the team. The soldiers tightened up, closing ranks. The footsteps grew louder, louder, until it was impossible to tell from which direction they approached, until it sounded like their source should be right on top of them-

The footsteps stopped.

The sound faded.

The noise of the team's breathing filled the air, tight and raspy. Sweat glittered on brows. Even Regan felt the twitch of his tensed muscles; he gave himself a little shake.

Snap out of it. This was no different than any other hunt. No different than the other clever monsters he'd gibbed over the years.

"Hey," said one of the commandos, suddenly. "Where's Wilson?"

"Well, well, well."

The voice soared into the air. Rich, and low, and husky, it surrounded them like a snare, pooling in the corners, filling the great hall with its sultry lap and echo. Rifles cocked, swerving upward.

Regan's eyes snapped wide as he took in the thing at the top of the grand staircase.

Huge. Nine feet was putting it mildly. The gigantic woman overlooking his team had to stand closer to ten, a wonder of elegant poise and carnal muscle. She wore plate armor, ivory in the glow of their flashlights, her skin dead-white and spanned with delicate craquelure, the long waves of her black hair framing a face that should have been beautiful.

If not for her eyes, bright-gold and burning with hunger.

If not for her teeth, too large, too white, too exposed as she pulled back her crimson lips in a rictus grin.

"I thought I heard rats gnawing at my castle," Dimitrescu said, in that rich, intoxicating voice. Her eyes fell to the broken urn; she arched one fine black brow. "And what a rude passel of rats you are, too. You come here, into my home. Guests in my castle, under my welcoming hospitality. And you destroy my property. That. Cannot. Do."

She lifted one hand, black claws extending several feet from her fingertips, and licked dripping blood from their curve. Her entire arm glistened ruby, matted with fresh, thicker gore around the hand and claws.

Gore, and hair. Regan thought he had a good idea where Wilson had gone off to.

"You know how this ends, Dimitrescu," he called up to her.

Her tongue slid back between the trap of those too-white teeth, blood trickling down her chin. "I enjoyed your little speech," she went on, as if he hadn't spoken. "I do so love a wasted effort. So delectably melodramatic. I have but one critique of your performance, if you'll indulge me."

Her hand flicked down. With a slither like swords drawn, those claws arced free to their full length.

"There's always need for further bloodshed," she snarled.

The first bullet caught her in the shoulder; it deflected off her armor with a twang. The next sheared past her cheek, and for a moment, eyeing the wet black furrow it left in her flesh, Regan thought they had her.

But with a ripple, her skin flowed back together, and within seconds there was no mark on her face at all.

Dimitrescu began to laugh. Wild, shrieking laughter, still rich, still gorgeous. She climbed atop the balustrade and leapt off, hair trailing behind her, claws unsheathed. All of them. Regan threw himself to the side as she plummeted; stone split on impact, a choking cloud of dust erupting from the broken parquet floor.

In it, Regan made out Dimitrescu's form rising, lit stark by the flashlight beams, by the muzzle flash, by the spark of bullets off her armor.

"Fill her with lead!" Regan commanded, taking aim. "Don't let her regeneration kick in!"

Dimitrescu threw back her head with a fresh wave of laughter. "Oh, poor, naive little man-thing," she purred. "You almost make me feel bad for doing this."

She lunged. Her hand snapped around the arm and shoulder of one of Regan's soldiers; he let out a yell, trying to twist around, get a good angle to shoot her in the face, but with a mocking shake of her head, Dimitrescu's hand crunched down.

"Bad boy," she said, with a tsk. "I won't play nice anymore."

She heaved the soldier into the air, his legs pedaling at nothing, and grabbed his ankle. With a single wrenching, crackling, snarling movement, a twist of her muscular shoulders, her biceps straining against her armor, she ripped him in half.

Bone popped; flesh and pink-gray viscera trailed like ribbons as blood gouted over the floor. It caught Regan full in the face. He stood there, staring, his finger on the trigger as Dimitrescu flung the two halves of his commando aside.

Her claws slashed. Sparks burst into the air. Parts of guns, sliced like deli meat, rained to the cracked floor. Parts of soldiers followed them. Hands, heads, limbs like doll parts. She was a whirlwind of scything blades and red mist. The room became a rain of blood, Dimitrescu bathed in it.

She began to laugh again, glorious, magnificent, a nightmare in bone-white and wet crimson, her claws spread to either side like wings.

"Go on!" she cried. "Run! Run!"

Regan brought up his rifle and fired. Craters appeared in her exposed flesh, in her armor, but he might have used his bare hands for all the good it did.

The blood, he thought, somewhere past the high, numb whine his thoughts had become. The more blood she consumes...the more she stimulates her regeneration.

He'd walked in here with fuel on legs, each man a new source of strength for Lady Dimitrescu to gorge herself upon.

A new snack.

And he was next.

Oh, god.

His trigger clicked. Empty. He flung it aside and drew his combat knife, breathing hard as he rounded on Dimitrescu. Her claws had just slashed down. The last of his soldiers peeled apart, head smacking the bloody floor with a thunk seconds before the rest of him.

Languorously, with a mesmerizing shift of her hips, Lady Dimitrescu turned. She stood over Regan, lashes lowered as she looked him up and down.

"Don't suppose..." Regan panted. "You and I...can make a deal?"

Dimitrescu's lips formed a moue.

"So disappointing," she muttered. "Then again, aren't men always."

Regan heard the slice of blades in flesh a split-second before the pressure hit him. He blinked; he opened his mouth to choke a retort, something with a modicum of dignity. Blood bubbled over his chin, thick and dark. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move.

He looked down at the four-foot blades impaling him, at Dimitrescu's hand sunk to the wrist in his chest cavity.

She ripped her hand free. In it, clutched in her claws, pulsed Regan's heart, steaming in the humid air. Claws retracting, she brought it to her face; her eyes fluttered shut, and she inhaled, deeply, with an expression of pure ecstasy.

Her lips parted. Her teeth sliced into Regan's heart, and with a twist of her head and three ravenous bites, she devoured it.

Sucking the remnants of his blood off her fingers, she smiled.

"Take comfort in this, man-thing," she said, as darkness rushed to enfold him, as Regan crumpled to the bloody floor. "You taste delicious."

***

Chris held Teodora's gaze.

Do you have any idea what they're really capable of? she'd said, and the words hung in the air, begging an answer.

"I guess I'll find out," Chris said.

He swung his legs over the side of the cot and heaved upright. His head spun, but he shook it off. Teodora sat, watching him, as he found his boots, his gear, and suited up again. He found his weapons in a chest by the cot, his semiautomatic and pistol, his karambit knife like a hooked claw. Teodora didn't stop him, not even when he opened the small wagon door and dropped to the mud and snow beyond.

The night gusted, the trees alongside the deeply-rutted forest track creaking under the weight of the blizzard. Around him trundled the procession of evacuating townsfolk. Walkers, trudging through the snow with heads bent and hands clasping their silver medals and bone charms. A few wagons, some like small houses same as the one he'd just exited, some loaded with supplies, children and the elderly perched on their backs with legs dangling.

Riders, too, mounted on shaggy horses, armed with old hunting rifles and War-era sidearms, knives and swords and short axes. They barely gave him a second look as he strode forward, searching the crowd for Hound Wolf Squad.

"Alpha!"

He looked round as Lobo and Tundra jogged up to him.

"Em," Chris said. "Charlie. All good?"

"Been worse." Tundra gave him the once-over. "Ice Queen in there let you out in one piece?"

"Yeah. Where's everyone else?"

Lobo nodded toward the front of the procession. "Keeping an eye on the lycans. They seem pretty occupied with the village, though. Guess they found enough to chew on."

"Right." Chris glanced around, saw an old man in a wagon, a few horses tied to the back. "Excuse me."

"Why do I get the feeling you're about to do something dumb?" Tundra called after him.

"'Scuse me. May I borrow one of them?" Chris pointed to the horses. The old man glanced at him, then muttered something in the local dialect and waved a hand.

Chris took that for a yes. Maybe Teodora had tipped her people off. He unhitched one of the horses, checked over the animal's tack, and led it to the roadside, just under one of the warding saint statues mounted atop a stone cairn.

He lifted his face to the mountains. Past the peaks, jagged against the clouds, he made out the faint firelit glow in the direction of the village. Rosemary was there. Ethan's remains. The Four Lords. And Ouroboros.

I can't stop now.

I can't.

"Boss," Tundra called. "You need backup?"

"No. Stay with these people. Make sure they get to safety."

"What about making sure you get to safety?"

He couldn't help but smile. "You worry too much, Em."

"Hey, it's what I do. We've got your back, Alpha. Always."

The horse nickered, nudging him with its nose. He stroked its braided mane, then swung up into the saddle, reining the horse around so they both faced the way back down the road.

Teodora blocked his path. She stood in her lycan-fur parka, rifle slung at her back, hands at her sides.

"You gonna stop me after all?" Chris called down.

"No," Teodora said. "You're a good man, Redfield. I know you are. And Rose respects you. Even I could see that."

Chris nodded, slowly, watching her with brow furrowed.

"Then what kind of good man are you gonna be?" Teodora asked.

Chris paused-

Then shook his head.

"I'll see you on the far side of the mountains, Balan," he said.

A hint of fanged smile. "I hope so. Saints walk with you, Redfield. Every long, dark step of the path."

She stepped out of the way. Chris set his heels to the horse's flanks, and with a jangle of harness they were off, headed back toward the village, toward the firelight reaching into the sky as if to devour the moon.

[jplupine]

In the Wolf's Den: Chapter 6

Pairing: The Weeping Monk x Devin [Nonbinary Fey OC] Word Count: ~3.7k WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Exophilia, Feral Behavior, Angst, Religious Trauma, Little Spot of Fluff, Brief Nudity

Summary: A trip to the Wolf Folk village before a hawk brings a letter.

You can also read it on AO3!

Masterlist | Chapter 6:

  After Squirrel had returned with his new stick, Lancelot went straight to brushing down Goliath. He didn't look at anyone but at least acknowledged the boy and told him they would resume training once Goliath had been seen to. Squirrel didn't seem to pick up on the shift of Lancelot's behavior at all.

  When the man had finally stopped crying, he seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in and couldn't look me in the eye anymore. If I could guess at anything, I would assume Lancelot was embarrassed by his actions.

  Squirrel, on the other hand, was excited to hear I would be taking him to the Wolf village tomorrow. He would have to bathe and put on a clean set of clothes first, of course. If anyone caught my scent on him, it would give me away no matter how I disguised myself.

  Once I'd told him some more about the village, he'd run off back outside since Lancelot had finished brushing Goliath. I listened from inside the cave as the man instructed the boy while my mind wandered.

  All he had ended up confessing to me wasn't something I could easily brush off. He had laid bare his truth and his confliction. I didn't even know how to feel about being told I, in many ways, showed more of his God's grace than his own Father Carden.

  Of course, I wasn't showing his God's grace- I did not believe nor ascribe to that religion. However, Lancelot still did, and that was what he felt to be true. And there was some humor to be found in it all as well. I'd been concerned I was too harsh on him, that my crueler choice words would drive him right back to the church, only to learn the opposite to be true.

  That I was leading him out of the darkness.

  I also now understood his reactions to the story of the first Wolf Folk. The she-wolf of that story had her prayers answered and found a new home while Lancelot's prayers were met with silence and his own fear of damnation.

  Rising from the water, I took a breath while pushing my hair out of my face. Birds flew by overhead as there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Hearing the woods and the running water of the river was rather calming.

  Standing there in the river that came up to my hips, I lazily ran my fingers through the cool water. The sun felt wonderful on my skin since it wasn't too hot out. The chill of winter would be coming around the corner, so it was best to relish in this weather while it still lasted.

  My ears flicked back, catching the sound of foliage rustling. The movement was quiet, so I doubted it was a human with how loud they could be in the woods. Looking over my shoulder to check, I stretched out my claws just in case.

  "I brought the change of clothes you asked for. I cannot fathom how you plan to make them fit...." Lancelot trailed off as he stopped in his tracks. He carried a pile of folded clothes with him that he was now gripping so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

  I rose a brow since he'd gone silent, and Lancelot quickly turned his face toward the sky as his face bloomed bright red.

  "I didn't know you were already in the river, I swear." He said rather quickly before spinning on his heel to turn his back on me.

  "You have seen me naked before, Lancelot. There is no need to be bashful now." I chuckled while seeing how red his ears were getting.

  "As I have told you many times, I was not myself then. I-It is sinful to-"

  "Not a woman, remember?"

  "It doesn't matter. One is not supposed to look upon the nude form of another."

  "Unless they are married."

  "Yes. Wait, how do you know that?" His head slightly turned, but he kept facing the woods.

  "Wisdom of the Ravens, remember?"

  "I remember."

  "So you seriously cannot look at me?" I crossed my arms while tilting my head. "Even though you have been balls deep inside of me many times before?"

  "Y-Yes." Lancelot dropped his gaze to the ground as he shifted his weight on his feet. "That is also....very sinful." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Even more sinful, actually." He added, speaking barely over a whisper.

  With his head tilted down, I could see how the back of his neck flushed. The man's face had to be as red as a ripe tomato by now. This was so different from before, and I couldn't help but find it amusing.

  "Then how do you expect to give me those clothes if you cannot even look at me?"

  "Turn around."

  "Turn around?"

  "With your back to me. I will set them down near yours."

  "All right, then." I said but didn't move an inch. I wanted to see how he was going to do this without looking at me since my clothes were piled on the edge of the river right in front of me.

  "Have you turned?"

  "Yeah, yeah. Just set the clothes down." Lancelot hesitated even after I gave him the go-ahead. When he turned, his eyes landed right on me- my chest specifically.

  "Jesus Christ-!" He hissed as he jerked his head back in the direction of the woods. I burst into laughter, finding his reaction utterly ridiculous. I understood my heat made him throw away chastity and modesty, but I didn't have anything he hadn't already seen. "This is not funny."

  "Oh, but it is. You have seen my body both in bed and in your head, but now you avert your gaze like a blushing maiden?"

  "I was raised devout Christian. Nudity is not....commonplace. I also see you lack modesty whether in heat or not."

  "Oh, you see, huh?" I laughed, watching his shoulders rise.

  "You know what I mean, Devin." My ears twitched as my smile fell. Even after calling him Lancelot for this long, he had never said my name in turn.

  Until now.

  A tingle went up my spine as I found myself quite liking how his voice said my name. Swallowing, I briefly glanced away before regaining my composure.

  "Fine. I won't do it again." I said before lowering myself into the water up to my chin. "Okay, I promise you can turn around now without seeing me naked." Lancelot was even more reluctant to turn now, but he eventually did, and my mouth went under the water.

  He really was as red as a tomato. He was also quick to set the clothes down before rushing off back into the woods. Standing back up once he was no longer in view, I grabbed the soap among my belongings.

  Once I was done bathing in the river, I wrung out as much water as possible from my hair and fur. Picking up Lancelot's shirt first, I sniffed at it to make sure my own scent wasn't on it. However, his strongly was. How was it he could smell like this?

  Bringing the garment closer to my face, I deeply inhaled through my nose. I was picking up so many things on the shirt, most of which were just him. It was such a nice scent, though, and my tail began to wag.

  I didn't care this time- It wasn't as if anyone could see it.

  My ears twitched again before swiveling, hearing incoherent whispers in the woods around me. Lowering the shirt, I quickly looked around as I was on high alert. However, when I saw nothing, I realized the whispers came from the Hidden.

  It wasn't often that I heard them. But when I did, it seemed to be at the most random of times. Now included.

  Sighing through my nose, I pulled the shirt over my head before grabbing the trousers. Lancelot had thankfully brought a belt as well that I used to keep the pants on my hips. The clothes were indeed too big for me, but simply rolling up the pant legs fixed the length issue.

  Draping the cloak over my shoulders, I made sure to tie it on tight. I didn't want it to fall off at the worst possible moment. I left my hair down to air dry as I carefully gathered up my things and carried them at arm's length back to the cave.

  Lancelot wasn't there when I returned, and I didn't pay it much mind given what happened earlier. After dropping my clothes on my bed, Squirrel and I left to have time to get to the village and back before nightfall.

  "Do we really have to leave after we get the sword?" Squirrel asked as we were riding together on Goliath.

  "I do plan to get some supplies and food. There's a vendor here that sells the best roasted elk I have ever had." I replied while seeing the village up ahead.

  "How do you even have money if you don't work?"

  "I work." My brows furrowed as I looked at Squirrel. "I've been working this entire time."

  "How? You go nowhere, and no one comes to your cave."

  "Well, my pelts sell mainly in the fall and winter. I provide my own food most of the year to save money, and in the summer and spring, I sell herbs from the woods. Those bundles you saw me prepping to dry- did you think I was keeping all of them?"

  "You have a lot of bottles with dried plants in them. How was I supposed to know?" Squirrel's response made me chuckle. Dismounting from Goliath, I then held up my hand to help the boy down.

  He took my hand before hopping off of the large horse to the ground. Grabbing Goliath's reins, we then walked into the village together. My hood was low to cover my face, and being covered in Lancelot's scent seemed to be working so far.

  The village was alive with chatter and laughter. Children ran around, chasing each other or their toys. Squirrel was lit up with interest as his eyes took in everything around him.

  The last time he had been anywhere full of people like this was Gramaire. However, Gramaire was very different from a Wolf Folk village.

  "Stay out of trouble, and you can explore." I turned Squirrel around to make him face me as I leaned down. Pulling a few coins from my pocket, I held them out for him to take. "No mischief, you hear?"

  "I hear." He grinned while taking the coins.

  "Either wait here when you are done, or I will find you when I am."

  "Okay." Squirrel nodded, and I ruffled his hair before he ran off. I didn't have to worry about his safety- he was a Sky Folk boy, and this was a village of wolves. He stuck out in the crowd, and children here were raised with the aid of the community, meaning no matter where he went in the village, someone would have an eye or ear out for him.

  Not to mention if he got into trouble, he was scrappy and loud. It would be impossible for no one to notice.

  Leading Goliath further into the village, I noticed there were a handful of other Fey present as well. From where I stood, I could see a few Snake Clan and a couple of Tusks. Had some refugees found their way here?

  Walking on, I soon found myself standing outside a familiar home. Taking in a deep breath, I pondered a little longer on whether or not I should turn back now. I already came this far, though.

  Tying Goliath's reins to a post, I pat the horse's neck.

  "Wish me luck, would ya?" I whispered. As if understanding, he nickered. "Thanks." I chuckled before nervously straightening out the oversized shirt as I walked toward the front door.

  Knocking, I waited for the door to open. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I hadn't seen my family in a few years and wasn't sure how much had changed or if anything had at all.

  "Hello?" My mother's face was the first one I saw. She glanced at the horse from over my shoulder before looking at me with confusion. "Can I help you?"

  "Can I come in first?" I asked in a soft tone while raising my hood to where only she could see my face. She took in a sharp breath before grabbing me by the shirt and yanking me inside. The door slammed shut, and I had to catch my balance to keep from falling on my face. "Wanna yank a little harder next time, Ma?"

  "What in the world are you doing here, Devin? You know you-"

  "Relax. Not even you recognized me."

  "Because you smell like a-" This time she cut herself off as her burnt orange eyes narrowed at me. She stepped closer, sniffing at me while I pushed the hood off of my head. "You smell like a man and definitely not even a wolf." Her tone sharpened. "Who is it this time, huh?"

  "You make it sound like I'm promiscuous. And it is not what you think. This is just a disguise."

  "From?"

  "A friend." I replied while glancing around. There were some new things like a replaced table and blooming herbs hanging from the ceiling. "Oh, you managed to find some of these this late in the season? And this big?" Delicately touching the pale blue flowers surrounded by greenery, I could feel my mother's gaze cutting through me. "What?"

  "Devin, I have missed you so, but you know it is not safe for you to come here."

  "My family is worth the risk. Where's Pa?"

  "He should be back any minute."

  "Okay, I get your concern, but why am I getting such attitude?" I gestured at my mother while looking at her expression and body language.

  "Because you never wrote."

  "I wasn't sure any of you would want me to." I admitted. "After everything happened, I had no clue where I stood."

  "Oh, Devin." Ma heavily sighed before she pulled me into a warm hug. "You are still a part of this family."

  "Even after the shame I brought? I remember how Pa nearly burst a vein."

  "Yes, even after." Ma pulled away and held me at arm's length. "Your sister is pregnant, by the way."

  "Cara? Pregnant? Shit, since when?" I asked as my eyebrows rose high on my forehead.

  "We found out last month. She'll be due next summer." Ma chuckled.

  "Is she joined too?"

  "Two years ago."

  "Two years?" I had to sit down as I rubbed my forehead. "Fuck. What about Darragh? Ciaran?"

  "Darragh is to be joined this winter, and Ciaran is....Ciaran." Ma softly laughed while taking a seat next to me at the table. "That boy may never settle down."

  "It has only been a few years." I mumbled.

  "A lot can happen in that time, Devin. What of you? Joined? Expecting? Planning?"

  "Nothing of the sort." I waved my hand as my brows furrowed.

  "Still courting, then?" Ma quirked up a brow at me as she glanced down at my clothes again.

  "I told you, these are just from a friend for a disguise. I swear I am not with anyone."

  "At least half my children are growing to be fine adults. I would have preferred better odds."

  "Oh, come off it. I fare well for myself."

  "You smell like a man you swear is not your partner, who is clearly Fey, but I cannot even tell what kind, and you even have the scent of a Sky Folk on you."

  "The two are temporarily in my care. The Sky Folk is a boy with the foulest mouth I have encountered a child having."

  "Fouler than you?" Ma joked, and we both laughed. "So what is it you do now? Are you a healer?"

  "Not really. I have had to use your teachings, though. I still deal in pelts and sell herbs."

  "Then why are the two you insist on being vague about in your care?"

  "I agreed to provide them shelter until they can regroup with their people."

  "The paladins?" Ma gave a knowing look, and I nodded. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Horrid, those men are. We have been lucky thus far."

  "Do you not worry how long that will last?"

  "It is ever-present in our minds. Nearly everyone in the village has made plans for a quick escape shall the need ever arise." Ma reached across the table to take my hand in hers. "I know you want to ask."

  "....What of Odhran and Liam?"

  "Odhran is still alone." Ma's tone was somber. "His broken heart has taken some time in healing."

  "I did not intend to hurt him so."

  "I know." Ma nodded while rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. "Liam.... Well," She sighed. "he is joined and has a litter." I ran a hand through my hair while sighing.

  "I really was a fool."

  "You cannot blame yourself, child. You do not choose who you love."

  "Yeah, but clearly Odhran would have been the wiser choice. At least he loved me so deeply to still be heartbroken after all this time. And I would still be with my family."

  "The past has happened. You were young and following your heart."

  "Of which I will never do again."

  "Try not to speak too soon." Ma gently squeezed my hand. "The heart can lead to wonderful things."

  "Aileen? Whose horse is that?" Pa's voice called out as the front door opened. He was still looking at Goliath as he stepped inside. When he turned, I saw the confused look on his face before it quickly turned to shock at seeing me.

  "Hi, Pa." And the door slammed shut.

  Storing the bought supplies into Goliath's saddlebags, I made sure nothing was going to fall out. I was glad to have gotten time with my parents even if I missed seeing my siblings. However, Ma and Pa had told me stories well enough about them to help me catch up on what I had missed.

  And now that I had finished getting what I needed, I had to go find Squirrel. Calmly walking with the horse, I didn't want to draw attention to myself nor come off as suspicious. Acting as if I were simply passing through as some others were was enough to keep my identity hidden.

  Lancelot's scent threw other people off so much that they would never guess it was me under the hood. I had known these vendors, grown up with them and around them, but no one could tell who I was. I wasn't too surprised by that since not even my own mother had been able to recognize me.

  I eventually found Squirrel sword fighting with another boy around his age. He looked as if he was having fun and winning while the Wolf Boy was asking where he learned to fight as he did.

  "Squirrel!" I called out to get his attention. "It's time to go." He nodded to me before turning back to the kids he was with to say his goodbyes. They were all waving and bidding him farewell as he ran my way. "Have fun?"

  "Yeah." He had such a bright smile. Storing his wooden sword away in his belt, Squirrel then looked up at me with his hands on his hips. "Now, where is this roasted elk you mentioned before?"

  "Work up an appetite training?" I softly laughed while leading the way to where I remember the vendor being.

  "Wolf kids are a lot faster than I thought they would be."

  "Make any friends?"

  "Maybe."

  "Maybe is not a no."

  "We are getting some for Lancelot, too, right?"

  "Of course. Don't want him to get moody as he does for being left out." I joked.

  "....Either you are really good at hiding how you feel, or you really don't want to stab him anymore." Squirrel's words made me look at him with a twisted expression.

  "What?"

  "Lancelot. You haven't glared at him in a while now. Also, you care about how he feels."

  "I do not-"

  "'Don't want him to get moody as he does'." Squirrel mocked me while waving his hand. Rolling my eyes, I looked ahead of us as I could smell cooking meat.

  "Why do you want me to like him so much?"

  "So that I'm not the only one who does. He could use more people that like him." He answered. "Nimue said that even if you are lost, so long as you have people that care about you, you will find your way home."

  "Those are some wise words."

  "Mm-hm." Squirrel hummed. Reaching the roasted elk vendor, I bought three portions before leaving the village and heading back home.

  Riding in quiet, I contemplated what Squirrel had said. He'd clearly grown more attached to Lancelot. However, I could understand why. Beneath the Weeping Monk was a man worth redeeming. It was a source of my own confliction how Lancelot could be so kind and concerned and yet have the blood of only gods know how many Fey on his hands.

  My ears twitched when I heard the call of a hawk. Looking toward the sky, I had to quickly raise my arm when a bird flew down right at us. The hawk landed on my arm as Squirrel twisted in his seat to look.

  "There's something tied to its leg." He stated before reaching up to untie what was no doubt a letter from the bird's leg. As soon as he had it in his hands, the bird flew off. "It's from Arthur."

  "And?" I rose a brow to encourage him to say more about what he was reading.

  "And I hope you have money for a horse."

  "....What?"

[redemptioninchaos]

Tess turned her head when the cafe’s bell rung, then stood up immediately. An athletic woman with dark brown skin and long, straight black hair arranged in a bushy pony tail walked in. She had hazel eyes and was a few inches taller than Tess. The woman’s shoulders were fairly broad for someone her height. She had a runner’s physique, what with moderately defined calves and thighs and a lean torso. Her face had an oblong shape with soft features all around.

She was dressed in khaki shorts, a blue T-shirt, and white tennis shoes, carrying a brown shoulder bag as she walked in. Unlike Tess’s restrained smile, the other woman’s grin reached ear to ear as she approached the angel. She picked Tess up as the two hugged, not a difficult task given how light the angel was. Tess had asked her not to do that in the past, but she quickly found that it was a losing battle. Being lifted from the ground got Tess to smile wider, though.

Bonita Salvadora was Sergio Salvadora’s cousin. When Tess was a mortal, she dated Sergio for four years in New York City. Upon death, Tess was reborn as an angel, took on a new name, and enacted El’Radyon’s will in Philadelphia. While working at her angelic mentor’s cafe, she met Bonita, who posed as a police officer for the PMPD. Initially, Tess was aloof towards Bonita as she was with everyone else. However, Bonita saw...something in Tess that drew her closer. Bonita mentioned that her family had what she called “Salvadora pride.” Sergio’s manifested in not asking for help until he had literally no other option. Bonita’s pride was in peeling people’s layers one at a time until they felt better about themselves. Could it have been manipulation tactics she learned in the force?

Eventually, Bonita and Tess revealed to each other their true professions. Bonita wasn’t just a normal beat cop, but an FBI agent, one who specifically dealt with magical manners. She was what the aetherial community around Philly called a “dreamer,” or a mundane with no magical powers. That being said, she had a keen sense of magic auras, which aided in her supernatural investigations. Tess revealed her angelic mantle to Bonita, which somehow only strengthened their bond.

“So good to see you,” said Bonita, finally withdrawing from the hug.

“It hasn’t been that long, has it?”

“It’s been almost a year.” Bonita chuckled. “I guess time feels different for you.”

“Maybe.” Tess gestured to the booth she claimed, the both of them sitting down. Though it had been almost a year, the two texted and called each other, keeping each other up to date with their latest exploits. Tess knew how Bonita liked her coffee after serving it to her for over a year, a half-caff latte with a dollop of cream. It sat on Bonita’s side of the table, ready to drink. “How’s Sergio doing?”

“Oh, just as busy as usual. It’s gotten to the point where I have to pay him to socialize. I told him he’d only have to pay a quarter rent if he went to an Independence Day party downtown. He just said he’d ‘think about it.’”

A corner of Tess’s mouth turned upward in a slight smile that quickly vanished. “It’s because of me that he’s like that. If I had to guess, he’s keeping himself busy to forget about me.”

“Please stop blaming yourself.” Bonita lightly squeezed Tess’s forearm. “I’ve said it once; I’ll say it again. Both of you did all you could. You both...fought like giants to get out of a bad situation. The only person to blame is gone now. You made sure of that.”

Tess frowned harder. While she did make sure Ariadna was dead and gone for good, she was unable to forgive herself for not saving more people when she and her cronies invaded Philadelphia.

She shook her head. She had a few dossiers in a small folder on the table. She opened the folder to reveal a tall, youthful-looking man with white hair, as well as a bipedal wolf being wearing the same clothes as him. “I don’t know why El’Radyon sent me here, but when I first came to town I heard of werewolf attacks on civilians. This is Jasper Ashwolf, the first person I’ve talked to here.”

“Ashwolf?” Bonita scanned the pictures. “I suppose his family doesn’t try to hide their background.”

“He’s nothing like Reagan. Not only that, but Jasper is a misanthrope, and he hates feds. Wouldn’t recommend talking to him. That’s gonna be a common theme today. As standoffish as he was, he’s not a threat. Just works at the local railroad and keeps to himself, or tries to.” She flipped the page, revealing a white-haired human man as well as an anthropomorphic jackal with black fur. “How much do you know about Egyptian mythology?”

“Anubis, right? Is that supposed to be him?” As optimistic and open-minded as she tried to be, even Bonita would have had trouble believing that Tess talked to a literal god who wasn’t El’Radyon before that point. She quickly realized that if Tess said something, she knew what she was talking about.

Tess nodded. “God of the dead. Has a list of all the people in the world with their death dates. He confronted me after I saved some people, which meant certain things in his book got changed. He wasn’t happy and tried to convince me to stop.” She scowled, then look at Bonita. Clearly she didn’t, and wouldn’t, stop. “I’d recommend staying away from him as well, not just because he could be a threat, but because he’s a cocksucker. He wonders why nobody worships the Egyptian gods anymore, but also never does anything worth worshiping. Somehow, however, he bore a son.”

She flipped the page, showing a man shorter than the previous one, with green eyes and light grey hair. Right next to that picture was a near spitting image of Anubis in his jackal form. “This is Cobalt. I don’t know much about him, other than he takes after his father in all the wrong ways. He runs a gun shop called Cobalt’s Imports close to downtown.” She frowned as she recalled something else. “He was in his jackal form and sat on me when I waited for a bus, then got angry at me when I assumed he was a fancily dressed canine.”

Bonita chuckled, bringing her hand up to her mouth. “What?”

“That was my first interaction with him, and Anubis. That’s how I found out something wasn’t right with either of them.” She flipped the page again, showing a raging werewolf running through a parking lot. “This is Jasper Ashwolf’s father, Jonathan, last seen killing civilians at the local bowling alley. The two of them contended alongside two others I’ll get into later. Jasper subdued him, but Jonathan’s whereabouts are currently unknown. I’ve heard a few things about another Ashwolf named Shirou, but I haven’t found him yet.”

“I’ve heard about that incident,” Bonita answered solemnly. “I’m supposed to investigate that further. Do you have anything—?” She was interrupted by a call from Reagan, her handler. She gave an apologetic look to Tess before saying, “I’ll have to take this. It was good seeing you again, though. Can we continue this later?”

Tess nodded, closing her folder. “Remember to take your own advice sometime.” Another rare grin from the angel. Bonita’s skin being too dark to tell visually didn’t matter; Tess knew that Bonita’s own advice in regards to Reagan would have made the agent blush just thinking about it.

Bonita answered the call, hugging Tess with her free arm, then headed out of the cafe. “Hello? Yes, I’m on my way now.”

@lycanspirited

@dimensionhoppinghybrids

[gsstories]

S&S&F: She-Wolf (1/3)

(This would take place after the events of chapter 15) …

Well, they sure didn’t think this through.

Cameron and Alanis had been getting ready for their monthly date night, a night only for themselves, nothing fancy or anything, just something sweet and nice for the two of them. However…

‘How the fudge did we forget about the kiddos…?’ Alanis mumbled.

‘I have no clue. We’ll have to cancel date night, we don’t have anyone to take care of them.’ Cameron said, slightly dejected.

‘Yeah, and Jack is busy tonight ain’t he?’ Alanis asked.

‘Either that or he is dead asleep, which I honestly doubt due to his coffee obsession.’ Cameron snorted.

‘True true.’ Alanis said as she and Cameron turned their heads to look at the kids playing with their toys in their blanket fort. ‘To bad, I really wanted to go on a date night with ya.’

‘Me too. Unfortunately, nobody we know can take care of the kids while we are away, they either don’t know about them, they to busy or they just don’t know how to handle them.’ Cameron said.

‘Hmmm…’ Alanis went deep in thought for a moment before speaking up. ‘Well, there is someone I know. She is good with kids and she is in the town right now, she told me a few hours ago. Plus, she ain’t human.’

‘Really? Who?’ Cameron asked.

‘You met her once, I think.’ Alanis said as she took out her phone. ‘Let’s hope she don’t start barking.’

‘HEEEEEY HEEEEY! Open the door!’

‘Well, guess I didn’t need to call.’ Alanis said as she put her phone in her pocket and went to the front door.

The kids jumped when they heard the new voice yelling just outside the house, hiding in their blanket fort as Cameron approached.

‘W-Who is t-that?’ Sun asked, a little scared.

‘It’s just one of Alanis’ friends, don’t worry. She won’t hurt you.’ Cameron reassured as he caressed Sun’s frills to calm him down, the little mer leaning in slightly.

‘So that’s why it smelled fishy in here! I just thought ya fell into the ocean again!’ The new voice said.

‘It was ONE TIME!’ Alanis exclaimed as the new voice laughed.

The kids watched as Alanis let the new person inside. The person was a woman of very short stature, around 5’1, had tanned skin with brown hair and eyes. She wore a pastel red grayish shirt with a slight dark gray jacket with three pins on them, a gray beanie that had doggie ears on her head and jean shorts. The most noticeable features in her person, however, were the scars on her body, her left arm being made of metal up to her elbow and a dark cloth covering her right eye. Both kids were curious yet still a bit nervous to meet this new lady.

The lady that squealed so high she almost shattered the windows when she saw them.

'Dios mío, son bebés! WHy didn't you tell me sooner, tupida?! They so cute!' The lady squealed in delight, her left eye wide in wonder.

'Cause I knew you would get like this and frankly, didn't want to deal with your barking so early.' Alanis joked.

'Ey, I only bark for one person, and you are very pretty, but my Kari is the only one that has my heart.' The new lady said.

'Right right.' Alanis said as she rolled her eyes playfully.

Moon growled softly at the newcomer, hiding in the blanket fort more. Sun, however, decided to speak up.

'W-Who is s-she?' Sun asked, nervous as Cameron turned to him and smiled softly.

'This is Aisha, one of Alanis' friends of many years. She's just like Eclipse, only more hyper and loud. Ally has known her for a long time and she is basically family.' Cameron explained.

'Who is Eclipse?' Aisha asked once she got her eye away from the kids to look at Alanis.

'Ya know the tall guy that you said he had an odd fish scent?' Alanis said.

'Yeah, I remember. Jack was it?' Aisha asked as Alanis nodded before realizing. 'Holy shiiiittake! That explains so much. By the way, where is Smokey??'

Just at that moment, Smokey came out to the living room and locked eyes with Aisha. They stared at each other for a while before Smokey just tackled Aisha!

The kids watched shocked as Cameron and Alanis just chuckled at Smokey's antics.

'Ay ya gremlin doggo! Pfft, haha, gross!' Aisha laughed loudly as Smokey kept licking her face.

As Smokey kept playing and rough housing with Aisha, she made the lady's beanie fall off her head. Wait, where those dog ears?!

'Ay ya Smokey, you are more chaotic than I remember!' Aisha laughed as Smokey settled down.

Moon looked suspicious once he saw the ears on Aisha's head while Sun looked rather curious. He crawled a bit forward to look at Aisha better and noticed something wagging behind her back. At first, he thought it was Smokey's tail but Smokey was now jumping on Alanis so it wasn't hers...

'W-Why does s-she have t-those?' Sun asked the kelpie, curious.

'You mean the ears and tail?' Cameron asked as Sun nodded slowly. 'That's because she is a werewolf.'

'What's a w-werewolf?' Sun asked.

Before Cameron could answer, Aisha spoke up.

'Werewolves are creatures that are basically half human and half wolf, making us sort of relatives to canines and therefore dogs like Smokey! We can turn into wolves or stick to human forms. There are also some misconceptions where we only turn during full moon's but we can turn whenever we want. We are also able to understand most canine languages!' Aisha went into a rant about werewolves, stars in her eyes as she explained. 'Ahem, sorry, I get excited when it comes to werewolf stuff. Especially if it's to kids.'

'You're good, you explained it better then I could have anyway.' Cameron said as he chuckled.

Moon poked his head out of the pillow fort and narrowed his good eye at Aisha. So far she hadn't tried anything but it was clear he didn't trust her. The darker mer got startled when he saw the werewolf lady staring at him, her tail wagging.

'So, what are their names?' Aisha asked as she looked at Cameron.

'Lil sweet bean here is Sun and the gremlin bean over there is Moon.' Alanis said as Aisha snorted.

'Awww, Solecito y Lunita! Or maybe Solecito and Tsuki? Hehe, Solecito and Tsuki!' Aisha giggled as her tail kept wagging.

Sun and Moon look a bit confused and turned to Cameron and Alanis, wondering what the heck Aisha meant.

'She's giving ya nicknames kiddos. She does that often.' Alanis said.

'W-What's a n-nickname?' Sun asked as he tilted his head.

'Google says it is 'a familiar or humorous name given to a person or thing instead of or as well as the real name'. Basically another name that you can be called aside from your given name. It's basically the same thing as calling you buddy.' Cameron explained and Sun looked like he understood. 'Aisha is basically calling you by your names but in other languages.'

'Yeah yeah! Solecito basically means Lil Sun or Sunny in Spanish while Lunita means Lil Moon or Moony while Tsuki means Moon in Japanese.' Aisha explained.

Sun kept asking questions and Aisha always answered eagerly and as best as she could. Alanis and Cameron looked at each other and looked relieved. Yeah, the kids will be just fine.

(Moon and Sun belong to @intistone’s fic Scars and Scales)

Cameron (kelpie boi) belongs to @ikari-shinsei

Alanis and Aisha (the new werewolf girl) belong to me :)

[trialbyselenelion]

Masters of None (Prologue) - Act 1

I think I died.

I say think, because I’m not entirely sure.

I definitely saw the headlights coming straight towards me as I sat in the backseat of someone’s car, but I never saw the collision. My memory cuts off before any impact is made so that's still a big mystery to me.

A few minutes ago, I woke up in a bed that I don’t think is my own, but what is a bed anyway?

Hmm, well I know what a bed is. But for some reason I feel like I shouldn’t know that. Weird.

I’m still breathing, so I’m not dead. At least, not right now.

I’m not in a hospital like I expected, in fact, past experience tells me I’m in some sort of motel room. Shag carpeting, a pair of nightstands (both with lamps on top of it) positioned at both sides of the King-Sized bed I woke up on, and a tv hanging on the wall. It was positioned right in front of my bed, likely for some late-night viewing. Nothing much else filled the room, just a leather recliner, a minifridge stationed under the tv, and a coat rack positioned near the door.

From where I was sitting, I could see a large window covered up by blinds and a door to my left. To my right were two doors, my guess would be that they’d lead to a closet and bathroom since these rooms always had those for their guests. Nobody would attend a Motel if they had to share a shower with other residents.

A knock at the door stirred me from my thoughts, my eyes darting over to the entrance next to the window. The door opened, likely left unlocked by whoever put my unconscious body here, and a young woman entered.

She looked to be only a few years older than me, with youthful freckles across her cheeks. She wore a lot of warm clothing despite the bright sun pouring in after her. Her clothes came in varying shades of green, contrasting with her dark skin and golden hair.

Not blonde mind you, literally golden, with a metallic sheen to it. I am suddenly reminded of the Greek story about the sheep with a Golden Fleece I read about in High School. Her tighter curls led to her haircut defying gravity while retaining a specific shape, like three pairs of golden wings growing from the nape of her neck to the top of her head.

She smiled disarmingly at me.

“Welcome to the waking world Patrick,” she said.

She walked over to the bed, holding out her hand. 

I took it, not seeing any reason not to. 

She helped me out of bed, and quickly I realized two things.

The first was that I was fully clothed, wearing a Beanie, sneakers, jeans and a t-shirt. I looked down and realized I was wearing one of those gas station ‘Three Wolf Moon’ Shirts. As I looked back at the stranger, a large lock of hair over my left eye shifted accordingly. It was brown, with its tips painted a midnight blue.

The second thing I realized was the fact that I only just now remember my name.

Hey, my name's Patrick James Talbot. But I always preferred PJ.

“I hope your rest was pleasant,” The stranger continued. “But we really must hurry. You’re one of the last few to wake up, and we can only begin today’s announcements once everyone's at the Town Hall.”

She then hid her hands behind her back and, as if out of nowhere, she pulled them back with a leather-bound journal in her grasp. She handed it over to me, smiling. 

I took it slowly, still taken aback by her sleight of hand. I could read, in golden lettering, the words ‘Patrick James Talbot’ on the cover. Under my name was a secondary title, ‘Town Jack-of-All-Trades.’

“Um, what’s this?” I asked quickly.

“Oh, it’s your own personal journal.” The strange girl explained. “It’ll be helpful for your time here; it can store all kinds of information. Whether you’ve written it or not, and more importantly, it’ll recall it whenever you need it. Plus, you won’t need to worry about running out of writing space.”

I flipped through its blank white pages, finding nothing. I kept it open halfway, on an empty set of pages, looking up curiously at the stranger. Her eyes darted back to the book, so I followed her gaze to find myself surprised by what I saw.

The previously blank page now had smudges on it, or rather, the beginnings of a sketch. Lines and strokes made by an invisible pen continued to mark the pages, becoming clean and readable in a few seconds. It was schematics; of a large square space with two interconnecting spaces connected to it. Simple shapes were in place of where specific furniture would be, but from what I could see it was obviously meant to be a simplified mapping of the motel room I was inside of. Alongside the shapes were names written in small but readable calligraphy, near a semi-large rectangle which was meant to represent the bed.

PJ Talbot and Chenzira Israel.

“Is that your name,” I asked. “Chen-zira?”

“Chenzira.” She corrected me kindly. “And yes, that is my name. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am the Town’s Safekeeper."

"You were probably thinking of something along the lines of ‘where am I?’ Am I correct?”

I nodded. 

“I see, so the journal drew you a map based on the room.” Chenzira concluded. “Makes sense, it does only work with what information you or a council member has.”

“Council Member?” I asked, still confused by a large margin. 

“There’s six of us,” Chenzira explained. “We are the Governmental Body in charge of this town, Grimmstown to be exact.”

“Is that where we are?” 

“Yes, Grimmstown, Selenelion.” Chenzira shook her head suddenly. “But you would be told this at the town meeting, which we still need to get to. Come, let’s go now Patrick.”

“PJ.” I corrected her, unsure if I should since she’s apparently part of the government. 

“Oh sorry,” Chenzira said. “Very well, come along PJ. Your fellow citizens await.”

She took my hand into hers, and I blushed lightly. Despite the strangeness of the situation, I felt like I could trust her, as if she was a childhood friend and lifelong neighbor I just never met before today.

We left through the door, revealing that my room was on what appeared to be the third floor of an entire building. She silently led me to the stairs, and as we reached the bottom of them, I caught a glimpse of the rest of the building. The motel was C-shaped, with about six floors to it. From how large the building was, I’d wager that it had six rooms per floor. Probably the largest Motel I’ve ever seen, even if I don’t get out much.

I think.

Chenzira led me across the vacant parking lot that the Motel encircled like an open hug, taking me down to a street. 

It was actually less of a street and more of an all-encompassing sidewalk. There were no roads, not even a single drop of asphalt for miles. Is this one of those fabled “walkable cities” I heard about? 

Occasionally some varying paths could be seen, both thanks to a coat of paint or a switch to colorful bricks. Cars and Roads remained scarce despite the twelve-minute walk we took through the city. I could see Streetlights and small islands of dirt keeping the occasional tree alive in a sea of sidewalk, but no fire hydrants or parking meters. There were Bike racks and Patio Tables with accompanying chairs, but no bus stops or litter.

It was unnaturally lived in, despite the fact that Chenzira and I haven't come across anyone yet on our trip. I was eventually led to a large white building, almost like a shrunken down Capital Hall with a big dome on the roof even. It only had one entrance, a set of double doors you had to use either a ramp or small set of stairs to get to.

Chenzira began to climb the stairs but stopped on the third step. “I should warn you, you’ll likely have several more questions even after the mayor gives her speech. Save your questions until the end, she won't let you interrupt her. But pay close attention, it'll be a lot to take in.”

I nodded, thinking to myself about how small the building was if it was expected to hold an entire town’s populace. 

“Try not to cause a situation.” Chenzira continued speaking as she reached the double doors. “We have people on standby to handle any acts of violence, and our mayor is well equipped to settle a screaming match-”

“Am I dead?” I blurted out as she began to push open the doors.

She paused. “No, not in any way you’d classify it I think.”

She retained a neutral look as she finished opening the doors and led me into the building.

Walking past a waiting room of sorts, we walked up to another set of double doors. A golden plaque over these doors read ‘MEETING HALL’.

Past those doors was a large room, at the end of which was a large, gorgeous stage. This stage was decorated with Navy Blue Curtains and had three richly carved podiums on it, as if it were holding a political debate. Two Podiums were pushed farther back to give more space to the one placed center stage.

In front of the stage were about sixty auditorium seats, the kind that fold up, divided into two sets of thirty by three aisles. About thirty of these seats were filled, though it was clear that there was no assigned seating with how sporadic everyone’s placements were.

“Take a seat wherever you’d like, only one more citizen appears to be missing.” Chenzira said. “We’ll begin once-”

Chenzira stopped mid-sentence to look around, alongside the thirty or so people sitting down, there were three oddly dressed people standing in the aisles besides us.

Though to be fair to those three, PJ could see that several of his fellow citizens also had a unique fashion sense.

“Oh, I guess Deirdre is still out.” Chenzira spoke. “This last one might be more troublesome than the others. Very well, feel free to take a seat now PJ.”

I nodded, walking down the middle aisle to avoid the folks still standing. I found a middle-most seat, though I couldn’t tell you the exact number. 

In the audience I could see all sorts of people, some looking like they were dressed for the circus. For every person in a normal sweater or t-shirt there was someone else who looked like they were plucked out of the middle of a hyper specific scenario. I think I even spotted a kid or two in the audience.

Nobody in front or behind me made an effort to chit-chat, and besides the occasional glance, the others in my row made no moves either. My lane-mates included a girl obscured under a traveling cloak, a blonde man in a trench coat, and a red-haired person sleeping in their seat.

The double doors I entered through previously flew open all of the sudden, my head snapped over to see what caused the commotion. A woman wearing sunglasses and very Patriotic Face Paint had kicked open the doors.

She sauntered down the left-most aisle and sat down at one of the empty seats with a haughty look. Almost as if she owned the place, she placed her feet on the seat in front of her as she reclined. 

The girl in suspenders and a beret who was currently sitting at that footstool immediately changed seats, silently accepting that her old one was permanently lost.

Before the double doors fully closed after their brutal assault, someone else entered the building. She was wearing a headdress similar to a Nun’s, alongside a schoolgirl's uniform and rollerblades. Her wheels were muffled by the carpet that lined the floor of the meeting hall, despite that, she glided over to where Chenzira was standing with ease. The rollerblader whispered something to her, too far away from me to hear.

The lights then dimmed, and someone walked onto stage from behind the curtains.

They were an impressively, almost shockingly, tall woman. She wore several layers of clothing fit for the Arctic, and yet kept a perfect poise in her movements that betrayed no discomfort. Her black hair was tied into long, hefty braids, with the front-most pair partially dyed white at the tips.

The tall woman (‘Seriously she must be like 7 feet tall’ PJ thought to himself) approached the podium prepared for her. 

She tapped the microphone mounted to it, checking its audio quality. She gave a satisfactory smile and spoke in a calming tone as she addressed the occupants of the Town Hall.

“Hello, and welcome to the Paradise Regained project.” She said, “My name is Winona, and I am the mayor of Grimmstown, your new, permanent residence.”

Then about twenty different people stood up from their seats as they realized what Mayor Winona just implied with her opener.

[dulluhan-iralun]

"Do you blame yourself?"

Bela reeled back, blinking at the now slouched Cassandra. They'd just been talking over the mangled corpse of a thieving maid when the brunette's head suddenly hung, chin to chest, hair framing over her face in some pale imitation to a Japanese horror movie Daniela had shown them once.

"I--Cassa, what--"

Her sister's broad shoulders shrugged as if they were being tugged by string, not quite human-looking.

"Well, it's quite common for someone in this situation to feel a kind of guilt."

Bela touched at Cassandra's arm, the Swarm near-silent beneath her skin as if she wasn't Swarm at all. Dread and nervousness sat in the back of her throat, a lump that was too dry to swallow.

"...what situation?"

Brown curls lifted from where they curtained Cassandra's face and horror laced down the Heiress's spine.

Ichor and black liquid like tar fell in caking tears from her hollowed eyes, the line of her mouth was split all the way to her jaw as if cut there by knives, dead and withering amber thorax sisters fell from the bloody spaces where some teeth once had been.

"The accident." Came the dual-toned eerie pitch before the corpse on the table reached out and grabbed Bela's shirt.

The blonde yelped and turned to the dead woman and found Cassandra staring at her again, this time sporting claw marks--a dragon's.

"Ca--"

Hands reached from the shadows while the harrowing hums and hymns of a song built in her ears, it resonated against her skull and tainted her with the horrifying perversion of Cassandra's voice.

It wasn't Cassandra, the lilt and tone broke and pitched and grew ragged with each syllable; a monster pretending to be her, a shadow wearing her face.

Gleeful verses built around her, a rhyme--a child's? Why--

Skidamarink-a dink-a-dink

Skidamarink-a-doo

I love you

Bela coughed around the putrid smell of rotting flesh, worse so--it came from Cassandra.

I love you in the morning

And in the afternoon

I love you in the evening

And underneath the moon

The touch of that tar-like substance from Cassandra's face and hands seemed to coat the shadowed sludge beasts that sang from the darkness around her. She fought not to scream while those hands held and grabbed her.

Skidamarink-a-dink-a-dink

Skidamarink-a-doo

I love you

They pulled her down, further and further still whilst that twisted version of her Wolf stood before her, cupping her cheeks and tugging her into the darkness.

"Bela!"

She blinked, gasping while she shook herself from her stupor.

Cassandra sat before her, raised eyebrow and tilted head. "Uhh...you good? I need the forceps."

The blonde took a moment to collect the environment around her--no shadows, no reanimated corpse, no giggling hymns.

"I...yes, yes, here--I-are you alright? You...I just..."

The Wolf shrugged, pulling apart the muscle of the dead maid's chest. "Yeah, m'good. Big M wanted to talk earlier and just...talked. It was really weird too--injected me with something a few weeks ago and I guess I need more of it? She says it'll help."

Bela swallowed back that same dread from her vision. "Injected you..."

"...yeah. It's cool though. I'm like that Captain America guy, I'll evolve and get super jacked--I mean, I'm already jacked as fuck but more."

The blonde lifted her head to gaze upon the brunette, not entirely sure she should tell Cassandra about the gleaming lights of two eyes staring at them from her sister's shadow.

I have been having that song *stuck* in my head for days now thanks to this!! But I love how fucking creepy it is and the last image is a good one, hehehe!

Your muse is terrifying but awesome

[therealityhelix]

By Talos, This Can’t be Happening pt 22

Happy Tamriel Tuesday! Vilena Donton is proven right!

Rated PG13 for: Blood, violence, sexual situations, bad puns, and other poor life decisions.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

                                                       ?~?~?~?~?

The search had hit a hangup. While garlic and the root of monkshood were easy to find-Seed-Neeus even had them in convenient powdered form-the bergamot seeds were nowhere in the city. Firstly, it had taken him a while to realize that the recipe was not referencing the citrus fruit, but rather, a weedy plant with pink flowers, that had a similar scent. Secondly, while several shops carried the scented leaves, none carried the seeds.

For a few moments, he entertained the thought of using the leaves instead but...this was medicine. It had to be precise, right? The seeds probably had some kind of enzyme, or flavonoid, or something that the leaves didn't.

He picked up a flask from Seed-Neeus, and went in search of soup. If he couldn't get the medicine yet, he could at least get the fluids.

Inside the Gray Mare, a cozy inn just beside the gates, he found the blue Argonian. She was sitting by herself in a corner, gazing forlornly at something in her pack.

Swag hopped into the seat across from her. She quickly shoved whatever she was staring at-he caught a glimpse of a huge, red jewel-back into the pack and closed it up.

“What do you want?” she asked. He was starting to recognize what anxiety looked like in her species, and she was practically dripping with it. Was it the product of a heist, she was hiding away? Well that wasn't any of his business.

“Some soup.” he said airily. “You heard. My girl's sick. Gonna get her something healthy.”

“Right. Well. Make yourself comfortable I guess. Miss Emfrid is also a Nord, so I expect you'll get a taste of home.”

“Right...” Swag said slowly. That could be a problem.

But when the woman came to take their order, she had next to no accent, and didn't question him at all. Nord she may be, but it sounded like she'd been, if not born, than at least raised in Chorrol.

The Argonian wolfed down her meal as if she hadn't eaten in days. She really did look thin; skin at her throat loose and wrinkled, tail skinny, cheeks hollow. Swag paid for seconds. He needed the flask filled anyway.

“Miss Emfrid, I was under the impression that Weynon Priory is nearby?” the Argonian asked. “I actually have an errand to run there. Need to speak to a man named Jauffre?”

“That old fellow?” Emfrid said, setting down a second plate of bread. “He should be there. It's just a little ways down the Black Road. Sad to see you leave though.”

“I will probably be back at some point. I don't have any real plans after this errand. Unless he has something for me to do. So...you stay with the mages, even though you are not one?” she asked him, after the innkeeper had moved on. “And they allow that?”

Swag shrugged. “We're a matched set. They want one, they have to contend with both.”

“Why chose a mage if you don't like magic?”

“Ah, well about that. For one thing, I don't actually dislike magic. Just what some people do with it. Secondly, while you can't really control who you fall for, you can control what you do about it, and I thought it could work, and so did she. That's all anybody really needs to know. You can call me Swag, by the way.”

“Reflects-The-Sky.” the Argonian introduced herself. “I thought the Mage's Guild might be a good fit for me. I've always been interested in magic. But it seems like this is a bad time. The Emperor is dead, the Guild is having an internal conflict, and I...well, I don't fit in too well anywhere.”

“I know that feel.” he muttered. “I mean being out of place. I never spent much time outside of my, uh, little world, until I met her. She's been everywhere, but I don't feel like I belong here just yet.”

“Really? You seem like the sort of person who can always find a place. Well, I'm sure there's room for both of us. You just have to get your lady well, and I...I just have to do this last errand. Then I can wash my hands of it, and get on with my life.”

“Sounds serious.”

“More than I can say.” she sighed. “No really. Don't ask. I won't say anything about it.”

Was she trying to fence that red gem? Tall order; somebody would definitely be looking for that. He itched to give her pointers, but it wasn't his call. And besides, he didn't want to get caught with it either.

“I beg your pardon, you two, but did I overhear you saying you were going to Weynon Priory?”

A man pushing the late end of middle age approached their table politely. Reflects-the-Sky eyed him suspiciously, clutching her pack closer.

“What does it matter to you, sir?” she asked.

“I'm Valus Odiil. My family owns Odill farm, which is quite close to the Priory. We supply some of their food. We've been having a hard time with it lately though, which is why they've been coming into town for supplies.”

“What's the issue?” Swag asked. “Just sayin' right now, I don't know a damn thing about farming.”

“Some kind of creature has been invading the farm at night, carrying off crops and animals, tools, feed, nearly anything that isn't nailed down. My sons need some help clearing them out, but I am too old for that kind of thing now. I would only get in their way. But if you are headed in that direction anyway, I could offer payment.”

“Creatures, huh...” Swag mused. “Say, do you grow any bergamot on your farm?”

“It grows wild along the fences. You would be welcome to it.”

“And I could stop by the Priory first?” Reflects-the-Sky asked.

“That is where my sons are waiting.”

“Then...” Swag said.

“I suppose.” Sky finished.

“Oh, perfect! My family and the Priory will be grateful!”

“Now, I gotta go see to my girl first.” Swag said. “She's down with fever. Meet you back here?”

The blue Argonian nodded, and he took his soup and left.

One hour and one full and sleeping Helix later, He returned to find Sky very ready to leave.

“I want to get to the Priory as quickly as possible.” she said. “I want this over and done with.”

“Lead on.” Swag said.

It was mostly downhill, a very pleasant and scenic walk. As always, the soaring tower was visible through the trees. One day, sooner or later, they would reach the top of that tower, and fly away home.

The Priory rose up out of the steep, forested hills, solid and secure. Two armed young men greeted them outside.

“So Father really isn't coming?” one demanded. “We should be doing this as a family!”

“No, it's best he sent someone else.” the other said. “Are you from the Fighter's Guild?”

“Eh, kindasorta.” Swag said. He'd technically signed up, but didn't feel exactly welcome.

“My errand first.” Reflects-the-Sky insisted.

They relaxed for a few minutes while she took care of her business, but when she finally emerged, she looked very sour.

“Things didn't go well?” Swag asked.

“I didn't want to get involved in the first place.” she growled. “I thought this would be the end of it. But I've got one more Daedra-cursed thing to do. Then, it will be done. Let's go take care of this farm; I've got to take a trip after.”

“Wow, that sucks.”

“Eh, it's just my luck. The stars crossed me long ago.”

The sun was waning by the time they reached the farm, and the destruction their mysterious creatures had been wreaking was clearly obvious. So was a lush patch of pleasantly scented plants with pink flowers, and a few seed heads, growing by the fence.

“Yooo, is that bergamot?” Swag asked. “That's my payment!”

He snapped off several seed heads into one of his many pouches as Rallus and Antus got into position, marking out the points of egress.

The sun sank fast, huge moons cresting the mountains, bathing the field in pale red light.

Then the noise began.

All the unfamiliar chirping and warbling, the song of the forest night. As an inveterate city-slicker, and without Helix to gauge responses by, Swag couldn't really tell what was or wasn't out of place. But the farmer's sons popped their heads up at one of them, a squirrelish chittering that repeated like a language. Swag didn't like that in the least. Exactly what kind of enemy were they facing?

“What was that?” Sky whispered.

“Bruh, you and I both know it's creatures.” Swag whispered back.

“Yeah, but what kind?”

They darted out of the ruby darkness, the size and shape of children. Three, then five, then eight...

“Here they come!” Antus bellowed, and charged.

The diminutive figures danced and bounced among the ruined crops, difficult to follow in the swaying shadows. Rallus and Antus threw themselves into the fray recklessly, and even Sky hissed loudly, pouncing on a short creature in a patch of tall stalks. One hopped up to him, and while he hesitated, trying to figure out what it even was, it plunged a small knife into his thigh.

He dropped to one knee, shouting pained curses. In the moonlight, at eye level, he could finally see them for what they were.

Wide mouths with protruding teeth, noses so flat and upturned they were like a skull. Adding to that were huge round eyes and heavy brows, high, jutting cheekbones over hollow cheeks, and bald scalps with long pointed ears.

The little creature yanked its knife free, pain exploding in sharp sparks through him. The thing screeched into his face, raising the blade again, then toppled over backwards, gurgling around a throwing knife embedding deep in its throat.

Swag's head whipped around to see Sky flip another tiny knife in her nimble hands, and snap it at another of the little monsters.

“Goblins!” She shouted. “Look alive!”

Swag gulped down one of the precious red potions, felt the wound knit, the blood surge, and jumped back to his feet.

Goblins? They were wearing clothes. Makeshift armor. They used weapons. Were these some kind of people?

One lunged at him, and he bashed its face even flatter with a heavy swing of his cane. He tried not to pay attention the the feeling of the solid wood against bone, and pivoted to knock the axe out of the hands of the next.

Sky rushed past him, nearly purple in the red moonlight, and took the goblins head off with a very nice katana. It flashed in the low light, and another dropped. And another.

A tight knot of shouting and scuffle on the other side of the field caught their attention. Swag and Sky broke through the tall stalks. Antus had fallen, the last goblin crumpled, nerveless fingers falling away from the hatchet buried in the youngest Odiil's skull.

Rallus dropped to his knees, groaning in horror, attempting to cradle his brother's body. Swags hand sought another red potion, but Sky grabbed his arm.

“It's too late for that.” she said sadly. “He's gone already.”

“What do we do?” he asked, throat thick. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

“They...They came from a cave close to the city.” Rallus whispered. “I'm going to go kill them all.”

“Wait, now hold on-” Swag started.

“No! They all have to die!” Rallus insisted.

“Your father must not lose both sons tonight!” Sky snapped. “Go back to Chorrol. Go to your father. Send your brother off with honor, rebuild your farm, and live long. We will see to this cave.”

“We will?”

“Shut up. Get back to the road. We will find that cave.”

Swag wanted to argue, but...not standing in a field muddy with blood. Not in front of a grieving brother.

Reluctantly, Rallus left his brother's side to go join his father in Chorrol. Swag was relived he wouldn't have to break the news to old Valus. He seemed a decent sort, and should probably hear from someone closer to him. However...

“Haven't really known each other long enough for you to be takin' these liberties with me, Skyline.” he said as she gingerly removed the axe from the dead man's head. It was disgusting, but, unfortunately, nothing he hadn't seen before.

“Grief would have driven him to throw his life away.” She said simply, wrapping the wound in a bandage, if only to hide it. “I have seen it happen.”

So had he.

“So you throw mine instead? You know, I've...I've got someone to go back to.”

“So don't die. You're more capable than you're letting on. Your 'distracted fool' persona could trick anyone other than someone who knows exactly what to look for, but you're more of a rogue than anything else, aren't you?”

Swag rocked back on his heels. It had been a long time since anybody had called him that. How could she know anything about-wait. No, she meant along the lines of the Grey Mouser, not the technicolor nightmares that used to run amok in Gotham.

“And you happen to know exactly what to look for, do you?”

“Yes. I do.”

He crossed his arms.

“And how's that?”

“Do you know what happens to an Argonian hatched under the sign of the Shadow?”

He sighed in loud annoyance. “No.”

“That's how.”

“Sky...”

“We don't have to do this. But we should. We should have lured them out of the tall stalks, so we could see the boys. If the goblins stay in the cave, they'll just keep raiding the countryside. Attacking the farm shows a dangerous level of boldness. They'll try something worse next. If you intend to keep wandering the wilderness around here, then it will be to your advantage to help me clear them out. I'm going anyway, you just need to decide if you'll be behind me.”

“Goddamnit.” Swag groaned.

                                                  ?~?~?~?~?

[cherrycola27]

SIREN'S SONG

Chapter 9: Geraldene , you're just a Homewrecker

Paring: Rooster x OC Captain Harper Ann "Siren" Mitchell

Warnings: Mentions of Ejection, injuries, cursing, drinking, self esteem issues, body insecurities. Jake "Hangman" Seresin... yes Hangman gets his own warning because he is fucking Hangman. Attempted Cheating. Allusion to smut. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: This chapter is inspired by two songs "Geraldine" by Miranda Lambert and "Homewrecker" by Gretchen Wilson

"Harper I seriously own you one... you are saving my ass tonight. Ever since you graced the mic a few months ago karaoke night has been buzzing because people want to hear you sing and I cannot keep up by myself." Penny said pouring another drink for the sea of customers in front of her.

"Mom, you know I will always help you but people also come in to see the hot drunk Navy boys and girls sing as well." Harper teased back grabbing some empty glasses and a tip off the bar. "Hey Si, can we get another round?" Hangman asked pushing his way to the bar. "Sure thing Jake! Give me a sec!" She called back. The bar was especially busy tonight because it was karaoke night and because a new class of recruits had come in for Top Gun. Harper recognized a few faces from her class today and a few from Roosters amongst the sea of uniforms. She grabbed the beers for Jake to take back to her friends who were at their usual spot playing pool. Jake went to hand her his credit card to pay. Si put her hand out to stop him. "You're in luck Bagman. Dagger Squad drinks for free tonight... that was the deal I made with P for me working. That and I get to keep all my tips." Harper laughed. Hangman looked down at the drinks in Harper's hand and noticed something off.

"No ring tonight?" He asked gesturing to her naked left ring finger. "It's right here" Harper stated pulling out the chain her dog tags were on. Her engagement ring hanging on the chain too. "It means too much to me and Roos for me to wear it out around here. I would be crushed if anything happened to it." She replied tucking the chain back into her black tank top. "Alright no worries. Hey when do you sing?" He asked beginning to walk away "In about 20!" Harper yelled over the crowd as he took the beers to the group. Rooster looked over the bar and shot her a wink before racking the pool balls for another game.

As Harper was finishing up with another customer, a bleach bottle blonde came and sat at the bar. She was wearing some high heeled boots, and a very mini skirt. She had on a skin tight crop top, and a shade of red lipstick that Penny had once described as "truck stop princess red" when Harper asked what she meant by that Penny replied "every time I've seen a girl wear a red like that is because she is trying to get a man or at least free drinks. She's like a truck stop. You are happy to see her, but if you spend to much time with her she gets expensive. The woman's outfit didn't go unnoticed. She earned several wolf whistles walking to the bar.

Harper walked over to her and put on her nicest face. "Hey hon, what can I get for you?" She asked "Can get a Mojito please?" The woman drawled out in a southern twang that Harper could tell she was most definitely over exaggerating. "Sure thing sweetie be right back. Moments later Harper returned with the drink. "Thanks a bunch can I open a table please?" The blonde asked sliding Harper a credit card and an ID. "Sure thing.... Bethany" Harper said taking the cards from her and reading the girls name.

"So I haven't seen you here before what brings you to North Island?" Harper asks being polite. "Well I am here to train at Top Gun, and to try and win back an old flame of mine" the blonde replied looking around. "Oh yeah?" Harper replied. She decided to ask the woman a few more questions before letting on that she was a Top Gun instructor. Harper guess the woman must have been in Bradley's class because she hadn't seen her today.

"Have you worked here a while?" Bethany asked sipping her mojito. "Well my mom owns the place so I'm gonna say yes" Harper answered. "Perfect!" Bethany squealed. "So what can you tell me about Rooster Bradshaw? He is my instructor at Top Gun and I feel like it's fate because we kind of hooked up a few times about 2 years ago. He was great but I didn't want to be tied down and seeing him now made me regret ghosting him. God he is just so fucking handsome and we had so much fun. And now that I'm going to be here awhile I thought I would take this second chance to get my Bradley back." Bethany told Harper.

Harper bit her tongue and took a breath trying to not snap on the blonde. Maybe she didn't know she was speaking to Roosters fiancée... I mean she wasn't wearing her ring and they both weren't huge into social media... "Oh Honey, sorry to burst your bubble, but Rooster isn't on the market anymore. He has a fiancée." Harper said trying to play nice. "And I have a goldfish named Nelson" Bethany replied. "Huh?" Harper asked looking at her strangely.

"I just thought we were stating things that didn't matter." The blonde woman replied back nonchalantly. "Sweetie I'm not following." Harper pushed back. "I don't give two shits if Rooster has a fiancée. They aren't married yet, so that means he is still on the market in my mind. And if I know Roosie, once he sees me, he will be forgetting all about his 'fiancée'" Bethany said calmly. Harper was seeing red... how dare this woman... no girl come in here and be so disrespectful. Harper had half a mind to ring the bell and make her buy the next round. Before she could do anything, Bethany was jumping off her stool and running towards Rooster. Harper watched her while staring Daggers at the wanna be homewrecker. The blonde bounded up to Bradley and tapped him on the shoulder. He greeted her kindly, because that was just what he did. But when Bethany tried get her hands on him, he politely moved her away. Siren couldn't hear the conversation but she could see that Rooster was clearly telling the woman he was not interested. But that didn't stop her. Harper was just about to hop over the bar and drag this girl out by her extensions when Penny's voice broke her out of a trance.

"And up next the lovely Siren" Penny called out pointing to her. Harper came from around the bar. She grabbed her dogtags and quickly slid her engagement ring on her finger. She waded her way through the crowd but stopped when she felt a firm hand press to her shoulder. "Si... listen there's the chick and she's trying to get all handsy with Rooster and he is clearly not interested. Just say the word and I'll kill her." Harper looked at her best friend Phoenix finishing her speech. "Nix while I appreciate the fact that you would kill someone for me. I got this." Harper stated shooting her friend a wink and striding to the stage. As she was walking past the groups of people, Siren quickly lifted Roosters aviators out of his back pocket before taking the stage.

"How's everyone doing tonight?!" She called out taking the microphone. She was met by cheers and applause from the crowd. "Well I'm glad everyone is having a good time. So I have two songs for you today. And they both have sort of a theme to them. And there is a certain someone out there who I really hopes gets the message." Siren shot a wink to Phoenix before slipping Roosters sunglasses on.

Bethany who had moved closer to the stage looked at the woman about to sing... she knew she recognized those sun glasses but she she couldn't put her finger on where they came from.

The first notes of "Geraldine" by Miranda Lambert came on and Siren began to sing

"I could see you coming all the way from Amarillo

Truck stop red lips pullin' on some nicotine

Shining like the spoke on a brand new El Dorado

You're trailer park pretty, but you're never gonna be Jolene

Geraldene, Geraldene

Why you gotta make me mean

Don't make me cause a scene now, Geraldene

Geraldene, Geraldene

You get 'em all on their knees

But you can't take a man from me

Geraldene"

Harper continued to sing while shooting glances over at the blonde who was now attempting to get Rooster to dance with her. He looked up to his fiancée with apologetic eyes. Damn this girl really didn't get it. Harper finished her her song while the patrons of the bar cheered.

"Thanks yall, I was hoping to be subtle in the message I was trying to send to someone tonight, but I'm guessing I'm going to have to be a bit more direct. So..."

Hangman looked over to his girlfriend with a look of concern on his face. "Phe... is Harper going to do what I think she is about to do?" He asked. "Oh she is definitely about to tear this girl a new one for messing with Rooster. But the bitch deserves it. I mean Rooster has literally been running away from her all night and she won't take a hint. I told Si to get let me kill her but she wouldn't." Phoenix responded as Harper spoke again.

"Bethany, this one's for you." Harper finished as a new country song began to place. Jake and Tasha immediately recognized the tune of the Gretchen Wilson song " Homewrecker. " and it was clear that Bethany didn't know the song because she had a huge smile on her face until Harper began the first chorus. The blonde became visibly uncomfortable and because to look around as the members of the bar began to glance at her.

Harper made her way down the stage to the bar floor. She placed herself between Bethany and Rooster before singing the next verse

"I'm sure you waited for a long, long time

To find a man like mine

But honey you're too late" Harper sang while flaunting her engagement ring in the girls face.

"So before you go and make your move

Maybe me and you should get a few things straight

There's two ways we can do this..." Harper challenge the blonde.

"I'll let you decide

You can take it somewhere else or we can take it outside" Harper spat in the girls face. She then turned and flipped her pony tale.

Harper sang the next chorus... the whole bar was silent watching and watching for what was about to happen. At this point Bethany was about to head for the door, but Phoenix and Hangman blocked her exit.

Harper jumped back on the stage and began the last verse of the song

"Now honey I'm a Christian, But if you keep it up

I'm gonna go to kickin' your pretty little butt

Is that clear enough yeah?!"

Harper finished the song and the bar erupted on cheers. She came off the stage and wrapped her arms around Rooster. The then stuck her left hand out for Bethany to shake. " Sorry we haven't formally met dear. The name's Captain Harper "Siren" Mitchell... I'm Roosters fiancée and one of your Top Gun instructors." Harper cooed turning her head to the side daring the younger woman to say something. "I um... I think it would be best if I um left." Bethany stammered out as she stumbled over her own two feet. She couldn't run out of that bar fast enough.

"Babe... you probably traumatized her for life." Bradley said kissing Harper's cheek. "Well when the trollop sat down at the bar bragging about how she didn't care that you were engaged and that she could steal you away from me... well I had to protect what's mine." She shrugged.

"Darlin', you know you're the only woman for me right?" Rooster asked looking down at her. "Of course I know that baby, and now so does every other tag chaser around here too." Harper laughed. She moved over to the pool table with the group. About half an hour later her phone chimed.

"Holy Shit!" Harper shouted smacking the pool table. "What?" Several members of the friend group asked. "Dadmiral just text me.... apparently he just got word that Lt. Bethany Jackson has decided to voluntarily leave the Top Gun program due to personal issues sighting she is quote 'afraid of how intense the instructor is'..." Harper told the group. "Oh he just sent me another message "You wouldn't happen to be the instructor she's talking about would you?" She read out in a tone clearing mocking her father.

"Oh my God you basically bullied her out of the program" Payback howled with laughter. "What... if she couldn't handle me roasting her in here you really think she could have made it in the sky?" Harper shrugged slamming back a shot.

Before she could do anything else, Rooster was grabbing her hand and tugging her to the exit. When they reached her Jeep, Rooster spun her around and pressed her against the hood of the SUV. He grabbed her face and kissed her hard.

"What you did back there was so fucking hot... turned me so so much... wanted to take you right there in front of everyone." he breathed out while kissing her neck. "Well then," Siren began pulling back from him. "Why dont you take me home and show me just how much you want me Big Boy." She finished pressing her hands to his chest and biting her lower lip.

They had never left the Hard Deck so fast.

Hopefully everyone enjoyed this chapter!

Tag List: @marvelsvalhalla @shanimallina87 @tallrock35 @aless-megs

[fruitcoops]

hii would you write a coops fic that takes place before they’re out when they’re still sneaking around but have like a sweet date night at remus’s apartment

Of course! This is a continuation of Newcomers and Nargles, where Remus babysits Luna Lovegood. Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Thank you for having me over,” Sirius said quietly as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth. The only light came from his kitchen, which was far enough away that they were left in soft shadows on his couch. “Really, Re, this is wonderful.”

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he laughed, though Sirius could see the pink flush spreading to his ears. “It’s just pasta and my apartment.”

“I love your apartment.”

The flush deepened. “Moody calls it my hamster cage. You had to duck to get in the door.”

“Details.” Sirius leaned forward for a proper kiss to his lips; they had set a timer for the pasta and had a while yet, if his memory was correct. Plenty of time to settle himself more comfortably in Remus’ lap and kiss him until he got the glazed look in his eyes that Sirius adored.

He wanted this all the time. To come home with Remus every night, without fear of the wrong person (or anyone, really) seeing them. He wanted to kiss him in public and keep his hand in Remus’ back pocket like a cliché movie couple and watch Remus light up when he held his hand. He wanted.

Remus made a soft noise and slid his arms around his waist, holding him light and cozy while he traced small swirls on the small of Sirius’ back. It sent goosebumps racing along his spine—Sirius cupped Remus’ jaw in his hands and hummed his approval. The room was so wonderfully warm, filled with the smell of cooking pasta and sauce on the stove. They had made it together; shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, trading kisses in the steam.

God, he wanted it so much it ached.

Remus trailed light kisses along his neck, taking pauses to nuzzle Sirius’ skin and nibble his collarbones. Sirius buried his face in honey curls and let himself believe this was his everyday life. Their everyday life.

A quick knock at the door shattered the illusion. Sirius felt the blood flee his face as they both froze. “Who is that?” he managed.

“I don’t know,” Remus whispered. His pupils were dilated with fear and, with a pained look, he guided Sirius off his lap so he could stand and turn the rest of the lights on. His slender hands smoothed his sweater and jeans in methodical movements, but Sirius saw their tremors.

He distracted himself from panic by looking around the apartment and all its knickknacks; the feeling of being surrounded by Remus in his most distilled form was unparalleled. A little granite wolf figurine sat with its wooden counterpart on the table by the door; dozens of pictures of family and friends scattered the walls with no rhyme or reason to their placement. It was cluttered in the best possible way, and Sirius wanted his whole life to look like it.

The door clicked open. “Hello?”

“Remus!” a woman’s voice exclaimed. “I’m so glad you answered.”

Sirius glanced over and saw Remus’ whole body relax as he opened the door further with a smile. “Hey, Pandora, how are you?”

“Doing fine, doing fine. It’s Phil and I’s anniversary and we’ve got dinner at 7:18, but Luna’s babysitter came down with a cold and can’t make it. We just got the text an hour ago and we were hoping you could watch her while we’re out.”

“Oh.” Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “I—well, I have a friend over for dinner, but we made plenty of pasta for one more, I s’pose. Sirius, is that okay with you?”

It took him a moment longer than was prudent to get over the fact that Remus—kind-hearted, friendly, beautiful, so beautiful—was asking his opinion on letting a kid join their date. Their top-secret, possibly-life-ruining-if-discovered date. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Oh, I’m so rude!” the woman gasped. She poked her head around the doorway and waved to Sirius—her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder in a messy plait, and her dress seemed to be made of a variety of beads. She was pretty, with a combination of angular features and a heart-shaped face that nudged a memory in the very back of his mind. “I’m Pandora Lovegood, from 7A. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.” He padded over and held a hand out to shake, but to his surprise she took it turned it over, furrowing her brow at his palm.

“Well, that’s quite the love line!” She smiled and patted his cheek. Her eyes were glacial blue, but somehow still as warm as a crackling hearth. “Good for you. Your life line isn’t bad, either. I’ll be back with Luna in a moment!”

“Have a good night, Pandora!” Remus called as she fluttered away. “Say hi to Phil for me!”

Sirius was still standing in mild shock when the door closed. “Pandora, Luna, and…Phil?”

“Xenophilius,” Remus said. The corners of his mouth twitched. “Her husband, and Luna’s dad.”

“Hell of a name.”

“We can’t really judge, can we?” Some of his amusement dimmed and he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for ruining our date. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s alright,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his cheek until he smiled. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Remus looked a bit sad as he looked up despite his smile. “Yeah, but this is our only time together.”

“It’s not the last time I can ever come over to your apartment,” Sirius reminded him as he ran his hands up Remus’ arms. “I think it’s great that you’re doing this for your neighbors. It shows how caring, and sweet, and wonderful—”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he laughed, cutting Sirius off with a vivid blush.

“Besides, I agreed to this.” He nudged their noses together. “I’m pretty sure my impressive love line can handle another date sometime soon.”

Remus grinned as he leaned in. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Black.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

A tumbling sound came from outside, followed by a peal of giggling and a sharp pattern of knocking. “I did a cartwheel!” a tiny ball of blonde curls announced as it launched itself at Remus’ legs the second the door opened. “Hi, Remus!”

He caught her with a slight wince as Sirius tried to calm his pounding heart. “Hey, sunshine, are you ready for some dinner?”

“Oh, yes, please.” She wriggled down from his arms and gave her mother a bear hug, beaming when her face was covered in kisses.

“Be good,” Pandora said as she set Luna down and brushed her hair out of her face. “Listen to Remus and his friend. We’ll be back by ten at the latest. Thank you both again for doing this. I’ll bring over some cookies tomorrow, Remus.”

“That’s very sweet, Pandora.” Remus’ eyes tensed at the edges, as if he was in pain at the very thought. Pandora whisked herself toward the stairs again and Sirius shut the door behind her. “Luna, do you—”

“I remember you!” Sirius turned and found himself staring into the biggest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. The memory came rushing back in a flood—Remus, frazzled and fluffed at the edges, with a little girl balanced on his hip. Luna stood on her tippy-toes and he leaned down so she could take his face in her hands. After a moment, she nodded. “You’ve done an excellent job of keeping the nargles away, Mr. Sirius.”

“Thank you.”

“Mama said you and Remus were making pasta. May I have some, please?”

“Of course you can,” Remus assured her, ushering her into the kitchen with a sweep of his arm. “After you, my lady.”

Sirius waited until Luna had safely skipped out of earshot before bending toward Remus’ ear. “Why does she…?”

“Talk like a normal kid and then a Victorian orphan?”

“Yeah.”

“Dunno. I guess that’s what happens when your mom’s a chemist and part-time psychic and your dad owns The Quibbler.” There wasn’t a trace of judgement on Remus’ face as he raised his voice by a few degrees. “Be careful by the stove, honeybun.”

“I will!” Luna chirped back. Sirius couldn’t place why, but he held undeniable affection for the little girl, even after only two meetings. She was unapologetically odd; he was sure he could never get bored of talking with her.

Luna sat on the countertop while they served up dinner, happy as a clam as she recounted her and her father’s hunt for Fizzing Whizbees at the candy store. They were her mother’s favorite, apparently, but Luna had yet to see one in real life. Her conversational skills came to a sharp halt during dinner; it was so startling that Sirius grew concerned after two minutes without her high-pitched contributions.

“Luna? Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” She looked up from her plate with a curious glance between them and gave Sirius a bright smile. “I’m making an octocapus.”

“An octopus?” Remus leaned over to look. “Wow, you got all the legs with your noodles! Way to go!”

“You’re a great artist,” Sirius agreed as Luna continued working on her masterpiece.

“Yeah, I know.”

He bit his lip to keep in his laughter and met Remus’ eyes; at first, he had been a bit worried about babysitting during a date, but he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the night. When their plates were clean and Sirius was warm and drowsy from carbohydrates, Remus collected the dishes and headed back into the kitchen despite Sirius’ offers for help.

Luna gave a wide yawn with her head propped on one hand and turned to Sirius the moment Remus turned the sink on. “Do you give Remus kisses?”

It took all of Sirius’ self-control not to accidentally spew water all over the literal child sitting across from him. Instead, he coughed and spluttered into his napkin while the alarms in his brain began to blare. Remus showed no sign of hearing their conversation while he rinsed out the large pasta pot. “What?”

“I’d like it if you did,” Luna continued with nothing but her usual dreamy expression. “Remus needs friends, and mama says he could use some kisses.”

“I think everyone could use some kisses,” Sirius said evasively. His heart galloped in his chest.

“Hmm. Yeah. How long have you been friends?”

“We’ve known each other a little longer than you’ve been alive, but we’ve only been friends for about two years.”

“That’s a good amount of time.”

“Oh?”

She put her chin in both palms, suddenly looking much older than she was. “I’ve been alive for four whole years. That’s a long time. If you’ve known someone for four whole years, you should give them kisses.”

Sirius stared at her. “That’s quite the philosophy.”

“What’s that?”

“An idea.”

“Why didn’t you just say ‘idea’?”

“I…don’t know.”

She hummed a little under her breath. “Will you color with me?”

“Yes,” he answered as relief coursed through him. He had no clue how she had gone from blunt questions that could turn his whole world upside down to coloring, but he didn’t care. “Yes, I would love to.”

Luna slid off her seat and hopped over to Remus’ desk, then dug around in the drawers and emerged with a few sheets of blank paper and some pens. “I’m bad at outlines. Will you draw them for me?”

“Absolutely.”

------------------------

Luna fell asleep halfway through coloring a Kneazle with Remus, which as far as Sirius could understand was just a cat that had its face squished. But it made her happy, and he would draw a million squishy cats to keep her questions about Remus to a minimum.

As soon as Remus finished tucking her in beneath a heavy blanket on the couch, he turned and crushed his lips against Sirius’ like a man dying for air. The kiss lasted long enough that Sirius was staring to get lightheaded before finding himself the (quite enthusiastic) recipient of a rib-crushing hug. They held each other for a few minutes, silent and swaying, before Remus let him go with a final kiss and they began to clean up the mess.

True to her word, Pandora returned just before ten pm with a blond man at her side and a big hug for her daughter. “Goodnight, Luna,” Remus whispered. They received a sleepy wave in response and then, finally, they were alone. “You are the best person ever.”

Sirius wound his arms around Remus’ waist and melted a little when strong hands combed through his hair. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I can doodle. It’s nothing fancy.”

“You drew imaginary monsters based on descriptions from a four-year-old.” Remus cupped his cheek and rested their foreheads together. “You’re amazing.”

“This was a pretty awesome date,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to bask in their little bubble.

“We should do it again sometime. Preferably without the child, though.”

Sirius’ smile came all the way from his heart as he buried his face in the slope of Remus’ neck. “As long as I get to be with you, I’m happy.”

It was the closest thing to ‘I love you’ he could bring himself to admit, but for now, it would have to do.