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anxiousstark · 4 years ago

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S2 02 | Shape Shifted

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall Word count: 2736 Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, injuries, blood, angst, swearing (always). A/N: I’m not really proud of this chapter. It is fast and not too long. At first, I thought about skipping it, but I totally needed it to be able to introduce Isaac Lahey. Furthermore, the black backpack it’s truly important for Y/N’s past with her mother, and for her relationship with Scott!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"Scott told me you weren't coming today." Allison stared at me, concerned.

"What's the point of staying at home?" I chuckled. I didn't remember anything about last night. I had this uneasy feeling, but I couldn't recall anything. I remembered running after Lydia when she escaped from the hospital's window, and the next thing I was lying down on my bed after being found in the woods. "Melissa will kill me when she finds out I'm not home." I laughed.

"Oh, she will kill you." My half-brother's girlfriend smiled, clutching her books against her chest. "Stiles told me that you guys are better than ever." She blushed, nodding. "I hope you guys stay like that. Scott glares at me less when you guys are together." I smirked. It was true. Scott seemed to be calmer when he was in good terms with Allison.

"I need to go grab some books from my locker." She kissed Lydia's cheek, who had been quiet most of the time. "See you guys later." She side-hugged me.

"They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying ‘We have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked," Lydia said while I opened the door for her. "But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds." She giggled.

"We were out there for almost an entire day," I answered back. "Isn't it crazy that we don't remember anything that happened during the time we were wandering around?"

"As I said before," She retouched her lipstick. "I lost nine pounds." I saw Jackson a couple of meters away from us, Lydia was walking directly to him. But his eyes were fixed on me while he smirked.

"Do your ears and nose bleed a lot?"

Fuck you, Jackson.

I walked to the bleachers, sitting down behind Scott and Stiles. Again, I was surprised that Scott was a werewolf because he hadn't noticed me as he was too busy talking to his friend. I got closer to them. "Boo." Both boys jumped, terrified. Their screams were so high pitched that half of the lacrosse team were staring at us. They both turned around to look at me. "Oh god, that was so fucking fu-"

Two arms wrapped around me, Stiles. Now, I was almost sitting on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around my waist, his face hiding on my neck. At first, I didn't know how to react, but I ended up wrapping my arms around him too. My right hand rubbed his back while the other rested on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, which seemed almost impossible. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

"For what?"

He sighed, his warm breath caressing the side of my neck, making me shiver. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the dance just to go with Lydia." His voice cracked.

"Stiles, we talked about this." I rubbed his back in circles. "It was your opportunity to get close to Lydia." Forming those words made my heart throb, but I continued. "You don't have to apologize for something your heart was telling you to do."

"My heart was confused." He whispered. "And because of that, you got hurt."

"It wasn't your fault." My fingers caressed his buzz-cut hair. "You didn't hit me, Chris Argent did."

"He could have killed you if he wanted. He didn't do it because you are of value. Because you are something that interests him." He clenched his jaw. "He could have killed you if he wanted to." Stiles paused. "And I never thanked you for saving me from Peter Hale back at the hospital."

"Anyone would have done that for you, Stilisnki."

We heard someone cough, and we decided it was time to part ways. Even though I didn't want to. Stupid Scott.

You know when you shower and wear clean clothes. You get inside your bed with fresh sheets. The smell and freshness embrace you, and you feel safe. That's exactly what I felt in Stiles's arms.

"Uhm. So what about the plan?" Stiles stopped looking deeply into my eyes to glance at Scott, who had interrupted us.

"What plan?" I curiously asked, sitting next to Stiles.

"There seems to be another wolf in the lacrosse team." The Hazel-eyed boy explained to me. "I told coach you're switching with Danny for the day."

"But I hate playing goal."

"Remember when I said I had an idea? This is the idea."

"Oh." He didn't understand. "What's the idea?"

"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes." He shook his head. "McCall's will always need me."

Coach called the entire lacrosse team. Stiles was the first one to go back to the field while Scott stopped to look at me. "Uhm, I hope you feel better."

"Did Melissa tell you to say that?" I jokingly asked.

"Actually, yes." He grinned when he saw how my face went back to a serious one. "I'm kidding. I really hope you feel better."

I nodded, smiling. "Thank you." I looked at him directly on the eyes. "And thank you for finding me."

"It wasn't me." He pointed at Stiles when he saw my confused expression. "It was him." Then he sighed. "And please, I can smell you guys."

"Smell what? I got showered so you can't joke about me smelling or something because I promise you I will kill you."

"No," He chuckled. "I smell Stiles." He paused. "And you, you know."

"No, I don't." He groaned, going back to the field, murmuring something about it 'not being his job'.

It seems like Stiles's plan was for Scott to throw every lacrosse player to the ground, smelling them to make sure that they were not a werewolf.

I was confused when in the distance, I saw Sheriff Stilisnki marching towards the field.

The match had been stopped by the police. "His father's dead. They think he was murdered."

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Noah Stilisnki softly grasped Isaac's arm, letting him know that he had to go with them to the station. He was a major suspect. "Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours." Scott was still trying to understand what Stiles was trying to say. "During the full moon."

"How good are these holding cells at holding people?"

"People, good. Werewolves, probably not that good."

Isaac followed the sheriff's orders, but before completely disappearing from our sight, he turned around, looking at the other werewolf boy. "Stiles, remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

Stiles nodded.

"He does." I interrupted Scott. I could also feel it. I could feel the rage. He was going to explode.

After what happened in the field, we had to go to class with Mr. Harris. I didn't fancy that man, he made me feel quite uncomfortable, and his subject was monotonous.

"Why would Derek choose Isaac?" I heard Scott whisper. Both boys were sitting in front of me while I was sitting behind them, in front of Danny boy.

"Peter told me that if the bite doesn't turn you it could kill you. And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving."

"Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?"

"Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness. Wait." Stiles turned around, he offered me a little smile, making my heart beat like crazy. "Danny. Where's Jackson?"

"In the principal's office talking to your dad." My interest peaked when I heard what he had said.

"What? Why?"

"Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac."

The hazel-eyed boy who only liked to get into trouble glanced at Scott and me. "We gotta get to the principal's office."

"How?"

I saw Stiles ripping a blank page from his notebook, shaping a not-so-round ball with it. "Everyone please turn to page 73." Mr. Harris was writing on the blackboard when the paper ball hit the back of his head. "Who in the hell did that?" Both troublemakers pointed at each other. Oh god.

Gosh, Mr. Stilisnki was right. I would only be into trouble if I went along with Scott and Stiles. But I couldn't let these two fools get themselves killed. I quickly made a paper ball, throwing it at Mr. Harris, hitting him directly on the nose. Classmates started snickering while Scott and Stiles glanced at me perplexed, but with grins on their faces. "Damn guys, I thought you said we were throwing them at the count of three." I winked at them.

However, Mr. Harris didn't seem to find it hilarious as he sent the three of us to detention. We were sitting outside when Stiles's dad came out. He hid his face behind my back, in hopes that his father wouldn't see him. Stiles under pressure was as dumb as Scott in his daily life.

"Scott." Sheriff Stilisnki greeted him. Then, he looked at his son, letting a sigh of defeat leave his mouth. "Y/N," He also greeted me. "How is that wound?"

"What wound?" I smiled, letting him know that I was feeling just fine.

He grinned back. "Good. I'm happy for you." He crossed his arms, telling his coworkers to go ahead. "I suppose you three are here to go into detention." I bit my lower lip while Scott nodded. Stiles still hiding his face behind my back. "Well, Y/N, you aren't going."

I gazed at him, utterly confused.

Stiles finally decided to stop using me as a shield. "Oh, wow-Dad! What a surprise!" Mr. Stilisnki, Scott, and I rolled our eyes. Sometimes, Stiles could be a complete fool. "Why isn't she going?"

I swallowed. I could feel both boys gazing at me.

"It isn't an interrogation, don't worry." Noah intervened. "But we need you to come back to the station. It is quite important, Y/N." I couldn't help but glance at Stiles, my anxiety going up as seconds when by. Why did they need me at the police station?

Stiles smiled at me, but I could see that he was as nervous and bewildered as me. "You are lucky," He punched me lightly on the arm. "You skip this stupid long detention." He moved a strand of hair away from my face. "And you are going to be with the coolest Sheriff of the city." He winked at his dad.

"We will still talk about this at home, Stiles." He smirked. "Come get her at the station when you finish whatever you did."

The hazel-eyed boy pouted, conducting his gaze to me. "Seems like it's going to be a long day for both of us." He muttered.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" Noah Stilinski took a seat in front of me. We were separated by a metal table. I shook my head while placing my hands on top of the cold surface. "I know you must be nervous about me taking you here without giving you any hint."

"And I'm in the interrogation room, so I'm even more nervous." I chuckled. "Please, go directly to the reason that made me be here."

"Do you remember Sheriff Posey? Back where you used to live?" He slid a picture of said Sheriff so I could see at him.

I nodded my head. I didn't remember much of him, but he saved my life a couple of times and did his best to snap Alice back to real life. Of course, it didn't work. "He was the one who 'took care' of Ali- my mom's situation."

Noah nodded. "He is gonna retire due to some health inconveniences."

"I hope he is okay," I sincerely expressed my feelings. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, pulling something that was under the table, letting it fall on top of it. A black backpack. "Do you recognize this bag?" I shook my head. "Sherrif Posey had it for a long time, he wanted to wait until you were older." His eyes searched deep in mines. "This is the bag your mother took to jail. It was given to Sheriff Posey when-"

"When she killed herself." I finished for him. No tears. But my hands were full of sweat.

"Inside the bag, there are items she took to jail, and the ones they let her keep." He sighed. "Of course, those who work in jails must be strict about what inmates can keep. There won't be much, maybe a couple of pictures, something that reminded her of the outside world. Sheriff Posey thought you should be the one deciding what to do with all of this."

He slid the bag towards me. "I don't want it." I was surprised. My voice didn't creak. "You can throw it away."

He sorrowfully smiled. "I had a feeling you would say that." He coughed a little. "I've been following your case since my friend Posey told me about you. I know how much you went through, from an outsider point of view." I nodded, he was the first person who talked to me that way. It was nice, and it made me think of Stiles. "I'm still gonna give you this bag. Do whatever you want with it." I glanced at the bag, nodding. "You can take your time with it. It isn't a decision you must take right away."

My eyes glistened while I peered at him. "They re-opened the case, right?" My voice came out in a whisper. "Her family re-opened the case, right?"

Noah nodded. "It wasn't your fault, okay? They are a heart-broken family. What they went through...nobody should have to experience that. But it wasn't your fault, and the judge gave you the reason." He grabbed my hands, his thumbs caressing the back of my hands. "You have all of us now."

After the conversation with Mr. Stilinski, he made me wait in his office, telling me to feel comfortable while I waited for Stiles to come for me. I was sitting on a couch, my eyes examining the black bag that used to be the most precious thing that my mother ever had. Funny, right?

The door opened, and I was met with Stiles. He smiled when he saw me, and I did the same. "Finally!" I got up from the couch. "I'm so tired. I want to go home."

When I saw his nervous laugh I concluded that we weren't going home yet. "I need to grab the keys of every cell in the station. There's a dude dressed as an officer who wants to kill Lahey. Also, seems like Isaac was being abused by his father, Scott is in his old house, trying to investigate and Derek is flirting with the receptionist. Well, distracting her, you know."

"Okay, so where are the keys?"

Stiles walked to a little grey box that was on the wall, introducing a code. But when it opened, it was empty. "Fuck, someone already got to them." Stiles ran out of the office without waiting for me.

"Yo, wait." I grabbed the backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. When I heard the fire alarm, I started running. "Stiles! Stiles?"

In a couple of seconds, I was able to find him. His back was against the wall while he looked ahead. Isaac Lahey has escaped from his cell, and he was fighting with a man that was dressed as an officer. Isaac grabbed the head of the fraudulent officer, slamming him against the wall. Then, he turned around, looking at Stiles. He moved to get closer to him, stopping when I firmly hissed at him. Nails coming out, ice-blue eyes and scales decorating from my wrist to elbow. He felt threatened but still tried to attack me until Derek appeared.

"How did you do that?"

"I'm the Alpha."

Derek left, taking Isaaw with him before the other officers came to the room due to the alarm. Stiles rushed to me. "Are you okay?" I nodded. "You need to calm down. The scales are still out."

I glanced at my arms. "I don't know how to control it. It just happens." He nodded while talking his plaid off, helping me wear it. We were interrupted by coughs. Uh oh, Sheriff Stilinski and other officers were looking at us.

I peered at Stiles while he looked at the man laying on the floor. "Uh," He pointed to the man. "He did it."

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

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darkh0wl · 4 years ago

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Where is your body? || Kyle, Mina, Morgan, and Nell (ft. Bex)

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable, @mor-beck-more-problems, @nelllraiser, @darkh0wl, @inbextween SUMMARY: They say waking up is the hardest part. Kyle faces the consequences of his actions. Bex faces the reality that is the supernatural world. CONTENT: PTSD mentions, sibling death mention, parental death mention

Instead of staying around to fret over Bex while Nell Vural did… whatever it was that Nell Vural did (because apparently she could heal people from debilitating injuries), Mina opted to wait in the basement with Morgan and Kyle the werewolf who seemed to enjoy maiming young girls in back alleys. She didn’t find him all that impressive, personally, nothing like the three-legged wolf, nothing like the creatures that she’d watched her dad face down. He’d faded back to nothing more than a boy, an injured boy, a boy that Mina could put a knife or a crossbow bolt through his throat and let bleed out on the basement floor. She sat cross-legged near him, a silver knife resting in her lap, and she tried not to shrink against Morgan’s judgement. “It’s just in case he decides to wolf out again,” she muttered. She wasn’t actually going to stab him. Probably. She kept looking to the stairs, to the knife, to the wolf, to Morgan, to the stairs. “Do you think-- I mean, Nell would tell us if-- He didn’t-- She’s okay, right? Right?” Because Mina was a little worried. She was worried that she hadn’t stitched Bex up right, and she was worried that they hadn’t arrived in time, and she was worried that there would be nothing Nell could do. She was worried. She was so worried.

“He’s not going to wolf out again,” Morgan said, taking a sip of four-shot espresso to tame the urge to roll her eyes at the girl. “He can barely do anything. And if he did, what’s he gonna do, bite me back to life?” She rotated on her toes and started pacing again. She’d spent a few hours in bed with Deirdre, but with Bex and Nell down the hall and Mina and Kyle below, she couldn’t keep still no matter what she tried. So, basement pacing it was. “Nell would tell us. If she thought she wasn’t up to it, she’d say, and we’d be dragging some other spellcaster over here to help. Bex is like family to her. And nothing matters more to Nell Vural than her family.” Another gulp of espresso. The more she took into her mouth, the longer she held it burning on her tongue, the more she got to taste. Morgan swallowed. “So until we hear otherwise, Bex is fine and is going to make a full recovery. She might be walking around the house by later tonight. And Teen Wolf over there isn’t a threat until we get a good reason out of him. Bex wants him to have a chance, so he gets one. And if it turns out he’s done something incredibly stupid…” She would what, exactly? Morgan slowed her pace until she stopped near the far wall and pressed her back against it. “We’ll find some wolves to turn him over to. Or a bus to throw him on.”

“They’re still dangerous even when injured,” Mina said, but her heart wasn’t particularly in it. She’d had time to kill the wolf if she’d really put her mind to it. She’d been too busy pacing and watching and not sleeping, and she almost asked Morgan if she could have some of her coffee, but that wouldn’t do anything more than make her even more jittery, so she just stayed seated, fingers drumming against her knees. “Right, okay, right.” And of course Nell Vural was a spellcaster. Mina was always so surprised when she was proven wrong, even though it kept happening. In her defense, though, Nell sounded like a hunter. At least, more than most people that Mina talked to. She didn’t expect spellcasters to go out and hunt down bounties. She narrowed her eyes. “Saying that he’s not a threat is both reckless and untrue, Morgan. Even if she’s fine, he still hurt her, and she almost--” Mina wrung her hands. “I don’t understand. He almost killed her.” Mina looked over to the sleeping wolf, just an unintimidating creature. “What would a bunch of other werewolves do? Slap him on the back? Tell him congratulations?” That wasn’t fair. She knew that wasn’t fair. There were good werewolves. That boy in the mushroom ring had just been a little naive, and Ari was good. Mina didn’t understand why she was so upset about this. It was irrational.

Nell remembered teaching Bex how to harness the emotions that threatened to overtake her as she worked on the younger witch, trying to remind herself how important it was to make sure she heeded her own words at a time like this as she closed Bex’s wounds. But the emotions were like a restless sea inside her gut, anger mixed with a sickening worry that reminded her far too much of another time she’d desperately tried to heal a part of her family, her hands and powers useless when there hadn’t even been a head to be spoken for back then. She hadn’t wanted this for Bex. White Crest had a nasty way of sinking its claws into anything bright, anything good that dared to peek its head above the ground. The sleeping coma had been bad enough, sending Bex into a spiral or worry and fear. But this was different, this was something that could be touched, and touch Bex in return. That much was obvious by the now scabbed over claw marks running down Bex’s body. Nearly a year from Bea’s death, and Nell still couldn’t preemptively protect those she cared most for. “I’m sorry,” she managed to breathe between gritted teeth, trying not to lose herself in the images of the decapitated sister parading itself through her mind’s eye, sometimes taking it upon itself to replace the body with Bex’s frame. Forcing herself to stand, she took a moment to stretch out her legs, stiff from disuse after kneeling next to Bex for the long healing session. She hadn’t been able to protect Bex from her attacker before, but she could certainly make the effort to do it now.

The walk to where Kyle was being kept wasn’t lengthy, and along it she let the sorrow of her student’s injuries shift into anger, almost bleeding seamlessly into one another as she drew one of the silver knives she’d brought along. Her gaze was hard once more as she entered the room with Morgan and Mina, and the still unconscious wolf. “He’s not awake, yet?” she confirmed, taking a few steps towards the slumbering young man.

Gently twitching in his sleep, not unlike a sleeping dog, Kyle lay on the floor of the basement and dreamed. It was a bad dream that he couldn’t seem to wake up from. He watched in third person as he attacked Bex. He watched himself kill her right there beside the bar. He watched her die in Morgan’s arms. It wasn’t unlike dreams he used to have after his first shift. No, not dreams. Nightmares. In his nightmare, Kyle could hear voices off in the distance talking about how dangerous he was. He could hear them discussing if Bex was okay or not. He roused slightly, realizing that he’d heard those voices before; Morgan and Mina. But if they were talking, where was… Bex.

Almost immediately following Nell’s question, Kyle started trying to sit up. He was only half awake as he struggled to push himself into an upright position. He patted the ground, searching, and mumbled to himself, “Gotta— Bex, is she— is she—,” before he sank back down fully, panting. All that movement hadn’t been a wise move, because now his body felt awful. He groaned and curled in on himself, hugging his side.

“Gotta find— I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean—.” That wasn’t true, though, was it? At one point, Kyle had every intention of killing Bex. He would never lay a hand on her, or any one else, while human. But that didn’t matter, because he wasn’t human and he had. As he saw it, Bex was dead. The last thing he could remember was seeing Bex limp in Morgan’s arms, and the scent of her blood filling the car. Kyle had killed someone, and whatever happened to him now was well deserved. He closed his eyes again, breathing growing shaky. He wasn’t a wolf, he was a monster.

Morgan eyed Nell when she came in, trying to divine Bex’s condition from her face alone. But the girl just looked tired and shaken. “Is Bex…?” She asked quietly. She was breathing, she reminded herself. The last time she’d seen her, she was breathing, and she was fine, and this wasn’t like anything either of them had suffered. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

Before Nell could answer, Kyle stirred and knocked himself around the floor. Heaving a deep breath, Morgan took the medkit out from the corner and the water bottle that was supposed to have been for Mina and knelt in front of him. “Slow down,” she said. “The only thing you have to do right now is sit up and sit still. All your dressings are coming undone now that you’re not a wild fucking animal.” That came out harsher than she’d thought it would. Morgan winced and tried to check her temper so she could at least try to give him the kind of care she’d want someone to give to Ari if something had gone this wrong for her. At least he looked guilty enough to know how reckless he’d been. She passed him the water bottle. “Drink this.” Then, as she started peeling away the loose bandages, she said, “It’s Kyle, right? You wouldn’t happen to remember what you and Bex were doing out at night on Amity Row, would you, Kyle? She almost bled out to death in that alley. It would really help if we knew what happened.”

Seeing Nell walk in forced Mina to her feet, the knife still on the floor beside her. It was fine, she figured. Truthfully, she wouldn’t need it to put her claws in Kyle’s throat and drag him out to the pool if she needed to do something, just hold him under and watch him struggle like the other wolf had, except she wouldn’t let this one go. She didn’t think she’d let this one go. Mina looked between Morgan and Nell, wondering if she even needed to say anything or if she should just wait. The look on Nell’s face didn’t scream that something was horribly, horribly wrong, so that had to count for something, right? That had to count for something, and that something had to mean that Bex was fine, and she was going to live, and this was going to be okay, and she didn’t need to worry about it, but she was probably going to keep worrying about it anyway, just for posterity’s sake, just in case.

And then Kyle was waking up, and then Morgan was talking to him in her soothing Morgan way, and then Mina was rolling her eyes because of course. Of course Morgan was going to… Morgan the situation. Mina looked at the boy with cold eyes, even if she felt something akin to sympathy for him. He genuinely seemed sorry. Sorry just wasn’t good enough, though. Not for this. “What she’s asking is if you remember why the hell you were in a back alley and somehow ended up carving into a human girl like she was a bloody piece of meat. Because that’s pretty important.”

“She’s alright,” Nell breathed in a way that spoke both of the relief she felt, and the weight she was simultaneously lifting from the shoulders of Morgan and Mina. The witch was nothing even remotely close to a healer apart from her ability to scab over injuries and stop blood loss, but she’s seen enough fatal wounds to be able to tell that Bex would make it. “Or as alright as she can be.” The witch’s jaw tightened to match her eyes as Morgan took a tone that was much gentler than Nell would have thought possible in a time such as this, and her anger simmered healthily below the tautness of her skin, her hand tightening around the knife in her hand as she spun it once. The light caught the blade in a flash as she stepped closer to Kyle, finding herself more in agreement with Mina’s words over Morgan’s. “It’s Kyle,” she confirmed for the older woman, knowing his face well from seeing it amongst the halls of her highschool. Kyle the kid who had spent far too much of his time flipping Yu-Gi-Oh cards in those very same halls, and Kyle the wolf who had seen fit to rip the witch’s student and friend to ribbons. “But yeah I’m pretty fucking curious about why you decided to nearly murder Bex.” Another step closer and Nell was taking a second knife from a hiding place somewhere within the folds of her shirt, letting it playfully join the other as she twirled them between her fingers. “So do you usually try and kill people in alleyways? You’re lucky you didn’t bite her.” Nell couldn’t remember how many times she’d carefully looked over Bex, combing for a bite that wasn’t there. “Otherwise you’d probably already be dead.”

Kyle gratefully accepted the water from Morgan, taking big gulps that left him coughing. Once he regained himself, he closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. Bex was alive. She was going to live. The weight that that announcement had taken off his shoulders was unbelievable. And yet, it removed absolutely none of the guilt that coiled in Kyle’s chest and settled deep in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he hadn’t killed Bex this time. But he had come damn close to it.

Now he was being questioned from three sides. What had they been doing? Kyle had been at work and then… “I work at the Bloody Stake,” he said. His voice was smaller than he anticipated. “I was at work. I— we— Bex and I have been in each other’s heads? I don’t know, I guess Bex is like— like a witch? Or something? You probably knew that already.” He looked to Nell for confirmation. He hadn’t completely known Nell was a spellcaster either. He figured if she had healed Bex, Nell was probably in on Bex’s abilities, then. He tried not to look at the knives she was holding. If Nell decided to do something with the knives, he wouldn’t even blame her, but the thought of what it would feel like being stabbed made his head spin.

“I didn’t. We— it’s been hard. It’s not easy when your head is always...full.” Kyle turned his gaze directly to Mina, locking eyes with her. “Bex is always thinking.” He grimaced as he pushed himself up into a seated position and pulled the blanket around himself tighter. Fuck, he was naked in a stranger’s basement, being interrogated for a probable attempted murder. Cool.

“She was panicking over something. A school assignment I think? I— it was a lot. I’m not usually, uh, out of control? It— I didn’t mean to— I— we were both panicking and I-I just needed to get out of the bar and I didn’t expect Bex to show up. That was so stupid, but I don’t even think she knew, you know? I don’t think she thought I was serious.” Kyle shook his head, losing his words for a moment. He couldn’t have told Bex he was a werewolf. But what if he had? Would she have still come for him? Would he be waking up in the forest somewhere? Or would he have simply killed someone else? He shook his head again, brows pulling together. He had to get that thought out of his head. Now wasn’t the time.

“I thought I had more control than that. It’s never happened— not like this.” He paused briefly to take a deep breath. It had happened before, but never because of a goddamn shared mind link. If they hadn’t been in each other’s heads, if they hadn’t been panicking, maybe it would’ve been different! His jaw clenched and Kyle closed his eyes. “I’ve been a wolf for five years and I’ve been learning it all on my own. I thought I was doing okay. I didn’t want this to happen.”

Morgan gave out a long sigh and sat back on her knees. Now not only could she not blame Kyle for everything, but she was mad at both of them. The antibiotic cream was still in her hand. She should get on that, and get some ice for all those bruises, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to lift her arms and keep helping, keep working like everything was fine in the wake of this supid, ridiculous, fucking mess. When she spoke again, her voice was low and sharp “You’re telling me--that you and Bex accidentally’d your way into a mental connection, and you knew she had spellcasting magic, and you didn’t think it was relevant to tell her you’re a werewolf? A lone, unguided, and unsupported werewolf!” Kyle needed more medical attention. From the looks of his bruising, he wasn’t going to be able to do much on his own. She unclenched her fists and let everything fall, flexed her fingers, and tried to find the willpower to pick them up again. “You didn’t think that might be useful in making informed decisions, like running after your ass into Amity Row? You didn’t think knowing something as vulnerable as her power might entitle her to knowing you sometimes turn into an animal with lethal capacities? Who could cut her off from her power forever and give her a whole new set of problems she didn’t ask for with one bite! Not once during however long this mind meld bullshit has been going on?” Her voice rose steadily with each question until she was yelling loud enough to hear herself bouncing off the walls.

Morgan grimaced and covered her mouth. She couldn’t be this kind of person. Not right now. Not ever. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to strangle her anger into submission. “I’m sorry,” she said thickly. “I appreciate your situation. But I need you to realize just how many levels of reckless the two of you were being. You, especially. You’re lucky you’re not both dead.” She didn’t yell, but her last words still carried a bite. At least she could move her hands calmly again and slap the rest of the antibiotic stuff on his injuries.

There wasn’t really enough time for Mina to be grateful to Nell before she was listening to Kyle explain the situation. Which… was more perplexing than it was anything else. What did he mean that they’d been in each other’s heads? How did that happen? When did that happen? What did that mean? Why was he looking at her like that? She narrowed her eyes and looked away. “No, you’re right,” she told Morgan. “Five years? How the hell have you-- How did you find out about her spellcasting if she didn’t find out about your lycanthropy? Wouldn’t you think that would be a fair exchange of information?” Though, really, could Mina judge him for not giving up all his secrets? It’s not like she’d given up hers. She was getting a headache. She crossed her arms, almost wishing she’d picked up her knife but also glad she’d refrained. This boy was a child, even if he claimed to have five years of experience. He was scared and a child. “Clearly, you thought wrong.”

Nell didn’t bother granting Kyle the confirmation he sought from her, jaw hardened into a tight not as she stubbornly refused to give him anything so soon after the violence he’s caused. “You should have told us,” the witch hissed harshly, still having little empathy for the werewolf in front of her while Bex was in pieces. “You thought you had more control than that?” Again her knives spun dangerously in a movement not unlike an angry cat flicking its tail too and fro, ready to pounce. “And why should I believe you when you say it hasn’t happened before? We’re not stupid. We know what it's like for young wolves who were bitten and not born.” To think that Kyle hadn’t made any similar mistakes, especially with a lack of any sort of contact or instruction by other werewolves was...highly unusual for a species as volatile for a wolf. “I want you to tell me the truth,” she began, moving closer to Kyle to crouch beside him, and holding one of her silver blades close enough to the skin of his neck that it became uncomfortably toasty. “Is this a problem or not?” If it was...she knew what the correct course to take was with wolves that caused more harm than good.

“I didn’t know!” Kyle yelled, louder than he had expected. He couldn’t stop clenching and unclenching his jaw and swallowing thickly. He was willing himself not to cry right now. He wasn’t the center of attention--not really. This was about Bex and what he had done to her. He didn’t want, or need their sympathy. “I didn’t know,” he repeated, softer this time. “We were mind melding, or whatever, and--and Bex said she was going to ask Nell to help. I didn’t actually know Bex was a spellcaster. Bex told me magic isn’t real. I--I didn’t know what to believe. Am I going crazy?” Breathe, Kyle. He took a deep shaky breath, steadying himself.

“I should’ve told her outright. I thought--Well, she was in my head and I didn’t exactly hide it. I’m not ashamed of being a wolf. I’m--it means a lot to me. I thought she would just figure it out, but she didn’t believe me. She didn’t really think I was serious, I guess, until--until--” Kyle closed his eyes when he could feel them welling with tears. It was a losing battle, but he just couldn’t cry in front of these women. They had every right to want to kill him, but recognizing that as fact did nothing to quell the desperate urge to shift again. His body didn’t have the strength or the energy to do so, but the anxiety Kyle felt wouldn’t take the option off the table.

When he opened his eyes again, it was because he could feel something hot against his neck. He didn’t have to look to know it was one of the knives Nell had been twirling. He tensed and tried not to move an inch, lest the blade touch his skin. It was silver. He didn’t have to ask. He knew Nell would’ve come prepared. “I--I’ve been doing my best. I’ve been--been trying to stay safe. I’ve only ever hurt two people, Bex included. The other time, it was--it was--” Kyle’s chest heaved with a silent sob he couldn’t contain, and a tear finally spilled over his cheek.

“My first full moon. I didn’t even know I was a wolf. My parents, they’re human. They didn’t know. How would they? They were going through a divorce and--and I didn’t know what was happening until it was happening.” He closed his eyes again and sniffled. He could almost laugh. Who would’ve thought that he was going to end up spilling out his traumas at knifepoint? He didn’t laugh. His voice came quieter, shakier, when he spoke again. “My mom got hurt. I didn’t kill her. But she got hurt. And I’ve been focusing...so. hard. on not doing that again. I don’t--the stress, and the--the noise, and the not sleeping. My--my grip slipped. Or maybe it wasn’t there to begin with. Maybe I’m just stupid and--and--and lucky.” Kyle stared at a point on the wall, not meeting any of their eyes. The tears fell freely, dripping off his jaw onto the blade.

“If that’s what you needed from me to justify it, go ahead and--”

There was a weight on Bex’s chest. She saw teeth, claws. Anger. Panic. It swelled in her head. Was it her? Was it his? Did they share it? The wolf lunged. Bex screamed. Her back hit the ground--

Bex sat upright in bed so fast her vision blotted. It was only a few seconds until she felt the burning in her chest and she cried out, looking down. Bandages had been placed on her chest, a lot of them. She put her head in her hands. She couldn’t remember everything that had happened. Her head felt so empty. Empty. Kyle! Eyes shot open and she swiveled her head to look around. Bedroom. Her bedroom, she was in her bedroom at Morgan’s. At the end of her bed was a large black cat with flaming eyes. Taki. Why was Taki here? Was Nell here? Why was Nell here? The pain in her chest made her sputter again and she pressed her hands against it, as if begging the pain to go away.

She remembered running. Kyle was panicking. Something about a change. A wolf. A werewolf. The memories flooded back into her head and she leapt up from the bed, clawing around for a shirt. Kyle. She had to find Kyle. What happened to him? Was he okay? Was he still a wolf? Had he hurt someone? Had he killed someone? Her legs gave out underneath her. Her back hurt, her head hurt. Taki made a disgruntled noise and came over to her. “Where…” she croaked, but it wasn’t like he could answer. So she stopped. She remembered something else.

Morgan, in her living room. Mina, coming down the stairs. The alleyway. It was so dark, she felt so cold. Bex shivered. She had begged them to help him. They had to have helped him. She pushed herself back up to her feet, shaking as she pulled on a shirt. Wincing with each small movement that tugged on the scabbed over cuts on her chest. How had they scabbed so fast? She reached back around her head to feel the throbbing. Stitches. It must’ve been bad. They were going to be so angry. What if they hurt Kyle? What if he hadn’t made it out alive?

Bex stumbled to the stairs and wrapped her arms around the railing as she lowered herself down each step painstakingly. Taki was behind her making angry, shrill meows, as if to tell her no. But she had to know, she had to see. She had to tell them it wasn’t Kyle’s fault.

She made it to the first floor and sank to her knees. Where were they? Voices. Down the hall. The basement. Bex took a moment to catch her breath before she pulled herself up once more and made her way to the basement stairs. The voices were getting clearer now, but her ears were rushing with blood. She couldn’t tell any of them apart. Taki ran down first and snuck into the room, meowing loudly. Finally, Bex made it there, and she stumbled into the doorway. Her eyes narrowed in on the figure on the floor, slumped, crying, covered in a blanket. “Kyle!” she exclaimed, voice raw, and took off for the boy. Overjoyed he was alive. He was alive. He was alive.

Something stopped her before she even got three steps into the room. Someone. Bex squinted through her blurry vision. Brunette hair, soft eyes. Except...they looked sharp. Worried. Angry. Bex drew her face in confusion, sinking to the floor with Mina. “Why are-- what’s going on?”

“I appreciate the rationale, Kyle, but your passive ‘oh well I didn’t not tell her, I just didn’t actually tell her’ bullshit still got Bex under your claws,” Morgan said, holding her voice steady through clenched teeth. “And yes, she was absurdly stupid to not to explain her baby magic did this, but that doesn’t absolve you of your choices and what they did to someone who is supposed to be your friend.” Nell and Mina also had plenty to say, and she was able to crack an ice pack to some of Kyle’s bruises with the rest of her held in tension. She did not want this anger, did not want to be the person it made her into. She prayed for the earth to take it from her as she finished up with the salve and the bandaids on the smaller scrapes. By the time she had unfurled new bandages, she had enough wherewithal to cover Nell’s blade with her fist.

“That is not the solution,” she said carefully. “Not today.”

Another breath. With everything she could, she tried to surrender her rage through her grip and down to the ground. Her voice was softer, but still tense when she spoke again. “I’m sorry about your mother, Kyle. And you’re not stupid, you’re just making reckless, selfish, short-sighted choices and---”

A wave of very angry Taki wails cut her off. Morgan let go and turned, Nell put away her knife, and the door opened, showing Bex, bruised and drained and just barely, amazingly alive. “Bex, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be out of bed, you need--” Morgan’s voice tapered off as she gaped at her with open relief. She forgot about Kyle completely until the bandage roll tumped to the floor again. Right. Time to hurry up. “Hold still, I’m almost done,” she grumbled, pinning him in place with one hand.

Actually, Mina would argue that this boy was stupid. Stupid as well as reckless and selfish and short-sighted. But she couldn’t help but pity him just a bit. This was why she never made a hunter of any kind. She was kind of a sucker when the sob stories came out. She was still beyond furious, and a part of her thought that they were letting this fool off a bit too easy, and an even bigger part of her might enjoy sitting back and watching the Nell approach as opposed to the Morgan one, but she didn’t have anything to say.

Mina didn’t understand why the cat had burst into the room so loudly until Bex followed after. She stopped the younger girl from moving too far, hands wrapped gently around Bex’s arms. “Hey, he’s fine. He’s okay. You need to sit down.” She moved them both to sit down. “Morgan’s tending to him. We’re all just talking.” It was even a rather productive talk. No one had been stabbed, and everyone was just in various states of sadness and anger. Really, Mina was sure this was how the most productive interrogations-- conversations went. She checked Bex over, relief and worry fighting each other. She glanced at Nell. “Should she be up right now?”

The moment Bex was on the move, Nell knew it, feeling the information reverberate across her familiar bond with Taki. As the younger witch neared the door, Nell withdrew her knife. She’d shot Morgan a look trimmed with her natural desire to fight against anyone who tried to sway her from a choice she was seemingly making. But it had also been meant as a wordless message between the two of them, one that said the true intent to kill wasn’t on Nell’s mind...yet. Her knife had mostly been meant as an enforcer to begin with, as a means of coercing anything Kyle might be hiding out into the open. Apparently it had worked with the admission of his mother, and for the first time since she’d arrived Nell felt a sprig of pity trying to worm it’s way through her anger. Unfortunately she wasn’t interested in feeling all that much empathy at the moment when Bex had been attacked, but it didn’t matter when Taki burst into the room, angrily meowing his alarm that Bex had arrived.

Following Mina’s lead, Nell abandoned Kyle where he lay- having little interest in him now that she had what knowledge she wanted, and when it was quite obvious he didn’t pose any immediate threat. “She should not be up.” In the span of a few moments Nell’s tone had shifted to the other side of the spectrum, her voice lightening from a vaguely tortuous interrogation to a forceful concern. “You lost a lot of blood, Bex. You need to sit down or you could pass out. How are you feeling? What do you remember?”

The sight of Bex alive was enough to silence Kyle for a moment. She looked bad. Well, she looked good for having been attacked by a werewolf, but she still looked bad. “Bex,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. It was a relief to see her alive, but the guilt that washed over him threatened to swallow him whole. That didn’t happen, and Kyle dumbly stared at Bex, tears still falling.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, a little louder now. “I didn’t mean for this—I didn’t want—I’m so sorry.” Bex didn’t need to forgive him; she shouldn’t forgive him. If she took the knife from Nell and stabbed him, Kyle would see that as getting off too easy.

He looked down at the hand that held him in place, trying to ignore the pain of the bandaging Morgan was doing. She was stronger than anticipated, so Kyle didn’t act on his urge to run to Bex’s side and hug her. Not that he should act on that urge anyway; some part of Kyle had already decided that he was going to leave as soon as he could. The brutal reminder of what he’d done to his own mother just cemented the idea further in his head. He needed to get out of here. It wasn’t for his own safety, but the safety of everyone in the house. They were right. He didn’t have as good a grip as he had thought and that made him dangerous. As soon as Bex was asleep, as soon as no one else was looking, Kyle had to go.

“No, no,” Bex said, already getting weary again. The world was turning dark and her head lolled for a moment until someone said her name and she sat up straight. Winced in pain, grabbing her chest as she doubled over. Everyone was telling her what to do again. They didn’t understand. This was her fault. She braced a hand against the floor, the other clinging to Mina. “You have to know, it was me,” she sputtered out. She looked across the room to Kyle, tried her best to meet his eyes, even as her world began to fade. Color seeping from the walls, draining from her face. Breathing laboured. The journey downstairs had taken nearly everything out of her but she needed to say it, even as she remembered sharp eyes and sharper claws, and a snarl. Anger. Intent to kill.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Kyle, her voice ragged. Her hand tightened around Mina’s arm. “I’m sorry. It was me. I panicked and I m-made you change and I thought I-- I thought I could stop it. Stop you. I’m sorry. Please don’t-- please d-don’t be sorry. It’s not your f-fault.” She looked to Morgan, to Nell, to Mina. “It’s not his fault.” She could feel sweat beading on her forehead. She was so tired. Her eyes fought to stay open as her head lolled against Mina. “Please don’t...hurt him...he didn’t...do anything…” She tried to give him one last look, but she knew it fell short. The world was consuming her again. She reached out for him, but he was too far away. She couldn’t reach him anymore.

She wished she could still hear him in her head. Maybe then she could reassure him.

“Oh, trust me, we are definitely talking about how responsible you are for this,” Morgan grumbled at the girl, taping down the last of Kyle’s bandages as she did. She pressed him down in place, muttering, “Stay put. I’ll finish taking care of you later.”

Then she was on her feet, rushing to Bex. “You need rest first, you need--” But whatever energy Bex had was already drained from her body. Morgan sighed and gathered her into arms as if she were no more than a basket of laundry. “I’d like to get her back to bed now, but I can’t leave Kyle alone if the two of you are going to keep twirling your knives at him,” she sighed, bundling Bex closer to her. “I don’t think he can make it up two flights of stairs, much less maim anyone else. He’s sorry and he’s not a threat and even if he was, I could throw him through a wall before he did anything. And Bex was clear about treating him with kindness. So, are we ready to go?”

“I wasn’t twirling a knife at him,” Mina muttered. The truth. She’d never twirled it. He hadn’t even been awake when it was in her hands. But that wasn’t important, now. She gave Nell a look, one that she hoped said, no for now but yes if necessary. She told herself that this wasn’t just about Bex, that she couldn’t suffer a dangerous werewolf to live if that was what Kyle turned out to be. Yet… there was still a werewolf out there that she’d been pitted up against twice that kind of disputed that as a fact. The thought of her dad lying in his own blood flashed in her head, and then he was gone, and it was Bex, and Mina felt the hand still on her arm, and she swallowed, tightly. She told herself it wasn’t just because of Bex. She was lying to herself. At least those lies didn’t hurt as bad. She looked at Kyle, still upset but not seething with it anymore. She wouldn’t try to kill him again, not now, at least. She moved Bex’s hand from her arm and squeezed it before she stood up. “Stay,” she told Kyle, no room for argument in her voice. If Bex wanted him to stay, fine. He’d stay and heal and then provide better answers. He didn’t particularly matter to Mina anymore. “I’m ready.”

“I already showed you that I got what I wanted for now,” Nell commented for whoever it was that apparently needed consolation on the matter of whether or not Kyle would make it through the next hour without finding her knife stuck between his ribs. “And if I’d wanted to kill him I already would have. I said that too.” Her foul mood at having found Bex bleeding out didn’t make for much patience when it came to her words at the moment, especially when she felt as if she were being warned off in a situation she was familiar with. Despite her short patience, it was obvious that there had been a lapse of judgment in Bex’s dash to Kyle, and Nell made a mental note to go over werewolves in more detail whenever their regular lessons began again. Maybe she could ask Kaden to speak to Bex about some of the finer points as well. After all Nell hadn’t known about loup garous until he’d told the witch of them after her stressful night under the moon with Adam, and they’d waited to see if they’d turn into what was currently sitting in Morgan's basement.

Nell flicked her gaze towards her familiar, and the Ovinikk got the hint without any verbal indication needed as Taki took up position next to Kyle, as if he were a prison guard escorting a convict to their next destination. Sensing his witch’s frustration, he took it upon himself to let a little burp of flames split through his lips, trying his best to make the small demonstration of his fire breath look as innocent as possible. Then Nell was drawing close to Bex as well, laying a hand against the other witch as she transferred some more energy into the girl, trying to give her the strength to at least make it to her bed. “We’ll get you to rest, and then we can talk about everything later.”

Preparing to ascend the stairs, Nell remembered the conversation she’d had with Morgan no more than a few days ago, centered around Bex and the lessons she’d have to learn the hard way when it came to the supernatural. It seemed one had already come to pass in the form of a werewolf mauling, but Nell couldn’t help the twinge of responsibility settling into her gut, thinking about how she should have acted faster on dissipating the mind-meld, how she might have tried to reach out to someone more practiced in mental magic if she’d managed to find a witch that would actually talk to her instead of spitting in disgust and cursing her away. She should have told Bex more about werewolves to begin with— should have shown Bex at least one spell she could have used to come to her defense. Instead they’d been left amongst the rubble of the first safehouse to fall in Bex’s world of diving into her new world of magic and discovery. “Let’s just get you to bed.”

Before Bex had even fully collapsed again, Kyle had convinced himself that she was dying, right here, before his eyes. What’s worse, she was blaming herself for a situation that was undeniably Kyle’s fault. His plans for escape seemed to be slipping away as he was told to stay put. Even more so when they put the infernal cat on guard duty. He bit his tongue to keep from making any snide comments about the cat, but that didn’t stop the reflexive growl that bubbled up from his chest. Kyle debated if now would be an appropriate time to request clothes, but Bex’s funeral procession was already headed up the stairs.

He had so much left that he wanted to say. He wanted to thank Morgan for defending him as much as she did. He wanted to apologize to them all for nearly killing their friend. He wanted to defend himself further by explaining the situation fully, though he still blamed himself entirely. He wanted to tell the damned cat to fuck off. Most of all, he wanted to apologize to Bex; if Bex yelled at him, if she never wanted to see him again, that was better than what he deserved. It wasn’t like they’d been friends before meeting in the library. But he’d been in her head, and he’d heard her just a few minutes ago. She wouldn’t yell at him. Kyle let his head drop back against the floor and he closed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe he should message Alcher or Ari. Maybe he should run into the woods and never look back. Maybe he should call his mom. He curled up, turning his back to the cat. All that could wait. Right now, he needed some sleep.

Bex wanted to stay awake for just a little longer. She really did. But Morgan’s arms, despite their chill, were very comfortable. Her grip was tight, and it felt safe. There weren’t claws in this moment, there wasn’t pain. She settled against her chest with weary eyes and looked at Mina next to her. Then Nell, coming hurriedly over. All their voices so concerned. But no one was concerned for Kyle. Bex was. She turned her head enough to try and see him again. He was slumped in the corner, curled up in his blanket on the floor. Her eyes welled up with tears again. She’d never wanted this for him. He had been so annoying when they first met. They’d never gotten along, not even for a minute. Screaming at each other through their thoughts. Blasting stupid music, thinking mean thoughts-- and it was all her fault. Because she didn’t know how to control herself, her magic. She turned back to bury her face in Morgan’s shoulder, shaking with quiet sobs. “I’m sorry,” she muttered into her shirt. “I’m sorry.” She doubted it would ever be enough. “Please be...please don’t be m-mad at him,” she breathed into Morgan. “P-please. He’s just scared. He’s s-scared, too.” She knew because of his thoughts, because they’d been inside each other’s minds for so long. It felt empty now, without him there. She couldn’t reach out and tell him sorry or ask if he was okay, or wonder what type of Yu-Gi-Oh cards he was looking at today. She’d said sorry for making him change, for making this happen, but she’d never said sorry for stealing his mind away from him. She wasn’t sure she could ever apologize enough for that.

Her body grew too exhausted to think too much anymore. She was limp in Morgan’s arms, her eyes barely open. She knew they were moving. Upstairs. Kyle wasn’t with them. It was a solemn trail of bodies. There was nothing left she could do, and so she closed her eyes, and let sleep take care, and hoped that in her dreams, she wouldn’t see claws again. That maybe she wouldn’t see a friend staring at her with death in his eyes.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #ch: where is your body?#p: mina #p: morgan #p: nell #p: bex

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arsonistslut · 3 years ago

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Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.

#creepypasta #jeffery woods #liu woods #sully #zalgo #tw violence #tw animal moidah #tw jeff fucking burns

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razieltwelve · 6 years ago

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Tear (Final Rose)

[Rip. Tear. Kill.]

Sigrid twitched. It was only a small twitch, but the worried look her older sister gave her told her that her sibling had noticed.

“Are you okay?” Eira asked. “You seem… twitchy.”

Sigrid mentally debated how she should answer that. Perhaps she could say something along the lines of ‘I awakened the voice of Saviour in my head last week, and it has spent about 90% of the time since then advocating murder, mayhem, and general malevolence toward virtually everyone and everything, but don’t worry… it likes you, so you don’t have to worry about getting stabbed when I start murdering people’.

What Sigrid actually said was, “I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. Most of her dreams had followed a similar theme over the past week: how best to slaughter her enemies and savour the lamentation of their loved ones. Oh, and there had been that dream about claiming several people she knew as ‘the bounty of conquest’. The fact that those people were all people she was attracted to was not lost on her.

Apparently, her version of Saviour had a rather warped view of romance although, to be fair, it had suggested that the aforementioned people would surely accept her because there was nothing quite as romantic as demonstrating how she could massacre her enemies.

Good grief.

From the conversation she’d had with her mother and grandmother, neither of their versions of Saviour was as violent as hers.

Her grandmother’s version was, by all accounts, a complete troll. Whether it was using Saviour’s powers to mess with reality, so that people walked in circles for hours at a time due to disrupting the nature of space in a given area or simply using Saviour to lure people into the predicted paths of pigeons, her grandmother’s version was, for the most part, obnoxious but harmless.

As for her mother’s version, it was not only snidely critical but also something of a romantic that would rather spend its day wooing and then pleasuring her mom. Frankly, the less Sigrid thought about that the better. She wasn’t an idiot, and it wasn’t hard to work out how Saviour could be used in that scenario. However, the thought of her parents doing that was not one she wanted to dwell on.

At all.

And then there was her version.

Over the past hour, it had pointed out that she should probably punish the palace cooks for slightly overcooking her pancake by using that same pancake to kill them. How? Well, if Saviour’s calculations were correct (and they were bound to be), using Aura to enhance the pancake’s rigidity while throwing it would allow her to pierce the skull of a cook with the pancake before the impact caused the pancake to explode, reducing the cook’s head to a cloud of blood and brains.

Her version had even helpfully run a simulation of how artistic the splatter patterns would look on the ceiling, walls, and floor of the kitchen.

Saviour had also urged her to critique her older sister’s handling of her butter knife, suggesting that her grip wasn’t at all good for stabbing people. Because, of course, stabbing people with a butter knife was obviously the most important criteria for how to hold a butter knife.

Her musing was interrupted when her little sister entered the room. Saviour immediately identified the signs of combat: a bruised cheek, scuffed clothing, and what appeared to be residue from a firearm of some kind.

“How did sparring go?” Sigrid asked, glad that she was able to keep her voice level.

Her younger sister made a face. “I don’t think I was able to hit Aunt Claire even once.”

[Pathetic. We should train her ourselves. Then she can join us in our crusade of conquest across the planet. Who better to stand beside us as we drive our enemies before us than our family?]

Sigrid fought the urge to twitch. Megalomania was also one of the more… unusual aspects of her Semblance. “Well, Aunt Claire is very good, and you’re still quite young. What matters most is that you do better each time and that you give your full effort when train. If you can do that, then you should be proud of yourself.”

Her little sister smiled. “Thanks! Oh, by the way, Aunt Claire told me to tell you two that Aunt Diana and her family are coming over next week.”

“Is that so?” Sigrid wanted to cover her face with her hands. That meant Victoria would be coming. The other girl seemed to delight in picking fights, if only because Sigrid was one of the few people who could actually give her a decent fight.

[Excellent! Victoria is a bearer of Ragnarok! We can rip and tear and maim and break… and then we can do it all again the next day!]

“That’s wonderful,” Sigrid finally said. “Just… wonderful.”

X X X

Watching Sigrid bang her head on the dining table, Averia could only pat her on the back.

[Her version might be defective whereas I am awesome.]

Averia gave no outward sign whatsoever that Saviour was talking to her. She’d gotten used to it over the years.

[Awesome at everything… including the bedroom.]

That was quite enough. Averia mentally suppressed the voice of her Semblance before it could make another series of lame puns. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elsa bite back a smile. The blonde had become very adept at discerning the minute changes in Averia’s Aura that signalled the suppression of Saviour’s voice, and she could probably guess why she’d done it.

“It will be okay,” Averia said to Sigrid. “It always starts off bad.”

However, Sigrid only continued to bang her head on the table. Why? In her head, Saviour was telling her to bide her time… until she acquired the power to defeat her mother in glorious combat!

#final rose #fanfiction #sigrid #eira #averia yun-farron #elsa

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omness-yamarik · 6 years ago

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Yakuza 13 AU Epilogue 2: Ava and Ira

Summary: Approximately 16 years after Xehanort’s death, Zexion and Aqua’s children don’t always get along.

Word Count: 1945

Ava and Ira were the kind of siblings who got along by not getting along. They constantly squabbled, complained about each other regularly to their individual friends, frequently told each other they hated each other, and if they got wind of anyone talking smack about the other, they would hunt said person down and use certain skills their mom hadn’t approved of them learning from their aunts and uncles. After all, they had to live with each other. Based on that, they had earned the right to not get along. Anyone else who intruded on that needed to be taught a lesson.

Aqua sometimes worried about how often their kids fought, but in one of the few moments where Zexion actually mentioned his childhood, he said he too had found his sister insufferable. Some siblings just didn’t get along. Ira and Ava were like that.

But at times, the two kids, teenagers now, took things a bit far. Like the time when Ava brought an air horn to Ira’s orchestra concert. Or when Ira retaliated by getting his uncle Vanitas to teach him to make slime so he could cover Ava’s bed with it. Or any time their parents ended up getting involved. One of the few things Ava and Ira could agree on was that their parents were formidable. Particularly their mom. She didn’t get mad very often, but when she did, even their dad felt it best to lay low for a while. Plus her cooking was pretty deadly.

Still, their family was a happy one. Mostly.

Ira stabbed at his mashed potatoes. Ava was doing that thing again. That one where she reported his every single shortcoming to their parents. If he got an A- on a test rather than A+, Ava would be quick to tell on him. If he tripped and fell during PE, who would rush home to tell dad right away? Ava. And when cousin Invi let him try out her slingshot at school and he accidentally hit the principal’s sports car with a grape, tattling on him to their parents would be the highlight of Ava’s day. It certainly seemed to be the case now.

“Well I’m sure your brother didn’t mean to,” Aqua said.

“Maybe not, but since the window was open it ended up on the inside of the car. And it spattered all over!” Ava said. The infuriating part of this all, for Ira at least, was that he had no way to retaliate in kind. Ava was practically perfect. Polite to all teachers, perfect grades, graceful, never failed at anything she tried, never made mistakes; the only way Ira ever had anything to report on Ava was if he engineered it himself, and there was no way he wouldn’t get caught. He’d tried. Her only fault was her rotten personality, and even that was only towards him. Talk about unfair.

“Ira, are you going to eat your potatoes, or are you just planning to maim them?” Zexion asked. Grumpily, Ira took a bite of his potatoes.

“Plus, yesterday Ira forgot his music for orchestra. And he always talks about being a big-time musician someday.” Ava laughed.

“I had it all memorized, so it was fine,” Ira snapped back. And then it occurred to him. The one thing that would get her to shut up. “But anyway, Ava, when are you planning on introducing your boyfriend to mom and dad?”

If Ava had turned any paler, she would have become see-through. Got her.

The thudding sound was Ira’s first clue that maybe he had gone a little too far. The slapping sound of his mother face-palming was the next. After that, he didn’t need any clues, because he’d looked over at his dad and started to sweat because he had just done something terrible. Zexion’s eyes were ablaze and one hand still clenched the dinner knife he’d stabbed the table with. Ira knew without checking under the table that Zexion’s other hand was at its habitual place at his pocket, where back in the day he’d kept razor-edged wires that he used in fights.

“What’s this about a boyfriend?” Zexion asked, his voice deadly calm.

“Dad, I, uh-” Ava stammered.

“I-i-it was a joke. Just a j-joke. L-l-like Ava has a b-b-boyf-friend. Haha,” Ira squeaked, knowing that he was going to get hell for this unless he straightened things out.

“Was it?” Zexion asked, his attention turning on Ira, who qualmed.

“Uhhhhhh.”

“Dear, Ava’s already 15 years old. It’s normal for her to start thinking about dating,” Aqua said mildly.

“Thinking, yes. Not doing.”

“Zexion,” Aqua sighed.

“You didn’t start dating until you were 20.”

“So, what, you’re going to make us the basis for when our children can date? Does that mean Ira’s going to have to wait until he’s 35?”

“No, I just meant-”

“You’re being overprotective again. Stop it.” Aqua’s word was final.

While the conversation was over, Ira didn’t relax. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. Sure enough, his dad finished first and left the table, and his mom picked the topic back up again.

“So, you have a boyfriend, Ava?” Aqua asked. Ava instantly turned on her brother.

“Ira you little gremlin, you’re-”

“That would be a yes then. Is it who I think it is?” Aqua continued her line of questioning.

“Um, well, that is, uh-”

“Oh come on. It’s not like we didn’t all see this coming,” Ira interrupted in spite of himself. “The two of you have practically been conjoined since elementary school.”

“By that argument, you and Invi should be dating since the two of you are thick as thieves. Emphasis on the thieves, since you’re a couple of little troublemakers!” Ava snapped back.

“Invi likes girls, and you know it! Pardon me if I haven’t succumbed to any raging hormones yet!”

“Both of you, please stop before your father comes back in here to complain about the noise. You know he hates it when people start shouting,” Aqua said. She was completely unphased. “Ira, in the future I would advise you to think a bit more before speaking, as your father is quite excitable. Ava, I’ve told you before that your brother doesn’t need you to tell us his every move.”

“But mo-om-” Ava whined.

“No buts. If he really did something wrong or was in trouble he can tell us himself. Furthermore, if you have a boyfriend, you really ought to tell us. Better for us to find out right at the beginning than for it to be revealed suddenly in a way that is rather inconvenient for you. I mean, imagine if your Uncle Demyx saw you with your boyfriend and called everyone over to spectate. Or- or something like that. Point is, be careful what secrets you choose to keep, okay?” Aqua blushed a little as she gave her suspiciously detailed example.

“Yes, mom,” Ava grumbled.

“As for your father, I’ll talk to him. So go ahead and invite your boyfriend to dinner on Friday.”

“But mom, Dad will kill him before he even gets through the front door!” Ira protested. If anything happened to his sister’s boyfriend, Ava would take it out on him in spades.

“No he won’t. Like I said, I’ll talk to him. Now, try not to fight too much as you finish your dinners,” Aqua said as she stood up and cleared her place at the table. She paused to sigh over the new scar in the table from the dinner knife, but then she was gone, leaving just an irate Ava and an apologetic Ira.

“Look, Ava, sorry, I-”

“Save it,” Ava snapped. She shoveled the rest of her food down, still managing to look as dainty as always, and then she too was gone, leaving Ira to wonder if maybe he could get one of his uncles to help him move to Antarctica. Or maybe another planet, just to be safe.

Friday night came and an air of unease fell over the house. Ira wouldn’t come out of his room, he was that scared. Ava was by the door, pacing and trying to keep a lookout for her boyfriend while also trying to keep an eye on her dad. Zexion might have appeared to be reading, except that he was scowling at the book in his hand as if trying to urge it to combust, and had not turned a page since he’d picked the book up almost half an hour previously. The only person who seemed unaffected by it all was Aqua, who hadn’t had work and had spent the day cleaning the house and humming along to the music playing through her earbuds.

And then the doorbell rang.

Ava sprang for the door. Zexion slammed the book shut, a behavior he never tolerated, and got to his feet with a glint in his eye that spelled trouble. He’d spent the previous evening talking to Eraqus about speeches one gave to one’s daughter’s boyfriend, and was well-prepared. Back in his room, Ira cowered underneath a blanket.

“Gula! Hey!” Ava greeted slightly breathlessly.

Zexion froze, uncertain.

“Oh, is he here already?” Aqua asked. “Come on in, Gula. I was really glad to hear you two are finally dating. I was worried the you and Ava were going to be like your parents. I don’t think any of us ever understood why it took Sora and Kairi so long to get together.”

“Mom! Stop that! It’s embarrassing!” Ava cried.

Zexion was still frozen.

“Well according to my dad, he kept getting interrupted whenever he tried to ask her out, but according to my mom, he was just super dense about it and then he chickened out too easily so she had to ask him,” Gula responded, shrugging.

“Both sound pretty likely,” Aqua laughed.

“Uh, mom,” Ava whispered, and jerked her head at Zexion, who still was in a state of suspended animation.

“Dear, did I forget to mention that Ava’s boyfriend is Gula?” Aqua asked a little too innocently. Zexion finally moved, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” he asked sourly.

“Uh-huh,” Aqua said.

“Hmph.”

“Don’t be like that,”Aqua chided. “Here, I’ll help you make dinner to apologize.”

“Why don’t you get Ira to come out of his room and help me instead,” Zexion sighed. “We want the results to be edible, right?”

As both parents left the room, Gula swallowed nervously.

“Uh, what just happened?” he asked.

“My mom has a twisted sense of humor sometimes,” Ava replied.

“Oh, okay,” Gula said, accepting that he wasn’t going to get any more explanation than that. But really, didn’t he deserve to know why his life had flashed before his eyes when he’d entered the room?

But it wasn’t like Ava really could explain what had just happened. She didn’t quite understand that, as Sora’s son, Gula held a special place in the hearts of the Yakuza 13, and as such, was one of the few people who would ever be able to actually be considered an acceptable match for Ava in her father’s eyes. She also was still trying to process the way her mom had just gotten away with trolling her dad so supremely. She knew they were in love, but to think it was to that extent was unbelievable to the girl, and to pretty much everyone, really.

All Ava knew for sure was that she supposed she would forgive Ira for this one. Mostly, anyway. She was still going to sprinkle a little salt on his toothbrush later, just for good measure. After all, she couldn’t let the pranks uncle Vanitas had taught her go to waste, now could she?

#kingdom hearts #KH #kh fanfic #Yakuza 13 AU #y13 au

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macadoodle1996 · 5 years ago

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The days quickly faded from September to October. Evanna finally received a short letter from her mother, congratulating her on being Sorted and making polite inquiries about her health and new friends. She did not, however, mention anything of having been ill or explain Evanna’s incident at the train station. Evanna was so frustrated that she had flung the bracelet her mother had given her across the room, only to have Draco support her out of the Great Hall to retrieve it.

“Merlin, Evanna,” Draco said. “You’ve never gotten sick, now you’ve collapsed twice in as many months!”

Evanna gritted her teeth as the noise seemed to reverberate inside her brain. It was worse than last time--she was shaking and she could barely speak on their way to the Common Room. She heard footsteps behind her and an overwhelming sense of panic growing.

She’s collapsing--she’s been hurt--

“Mr Malfoy, where are you taking Ms. Malfoy? She looks like she ought to be going to the Hospital Wing,” a deep voice was saying behind the siblings. Evanna groaned at the pain behind her temples.

“She said to take her to the Common Room, sir--”

Foolish idiot girl--

“She does not look in a state to make that kind of decision,” the voice was closer now, and Evanna felt herself being lifted into a pair of strong arms, the scent of sage and rosemary filling her nostrils. She fought against the waves of concern and anxiety and guilt like a thing possessed.

“This happened at the train platform, sir,” Draco said. “And Mother gave her this bracelet--I think it had some sort of charm, sir--”

“Well, where is it, boy?” the voice snapped.

“I think in her dorm, that’s why I was taking her down--”

“Go get it and meet me in the infirmary.”

“No!”

The thought of going to the infirmary cut through Evanna’s mind. If she went to the infirmary, a letter would be sent home and then her father would know and would question her mother who would possibly decide never to tell Evanna what was going on in her own mind and she could not would not let that happen.

“Dorm--please--”

“Ms. Malfoy--”

“DORM!” Evanna gasped out.

The further they got from the Great Hall, the more the pain and noise in Evanna’s mind lessened, though the anxiety and guilt did not. She slowly became aware that she was being carried through the castle like a baby doll, though it was not until they reached the blank slab of wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room that it fully sank in who it was carrying her. Her cheeks burned red at the realization that it was her Head of House.

“Let me down, sir, I can walk,” she insisted. The professor did as he was bid, though she nearly toppled Draco over.

“I would not advise lying at this time or any other time, Ms. Malfoy,” the professor said in a dangerous voice. “Now, where is this bracelet? Is it warded against Summoning?”

“Dorm room--I don’t think so,” Evanna said, leaning heavily against her brother as he pulled her to one of the low couches in front of the fireplace. The Professor watched them carefully even as he nodded and pulled out his wand.

“Accio bracelet!” he called. Within a few moments, the bracelet was zooming out and the Professor put it on her wrist. Immediately, she stopped shaking as the noise left her head, though she still felt the shadow of guilt and anxiety. Professor Snape stared at the bracelet curiously.

“Answer me honestly, Ms. Malfoy,” he said, “have you been hearing voices making death threats around the castle again?”

Evanna shook her head. “No, sir.”

Draco gave her an incredulous look, but it seemed that her professor’s presence was enough to stop him from asking.

“May I?” the professor gestured at the bracelet. Evanna nodded and the man took her wrist and studied it.

She herself had never looked too closely to it, simply noting that it looked incredibly old and somewhat clunkier than what she typically thought of as her mother’s style. She had assumed it to be some sort of precious metal, but looking at it closer, it seemed that was instead petrified wood. Carved into it were a series of knots and in the center there were two snakes entangled so tightly that one could not be sure where one began and the other ended. At the ends of the bracelet--more of a bangle, really--were two flattened circles with a cross dividing it into even circles.

“It looks like Celtic protection charms--there is a symbol for inner strength, the wuivre,” her professor pointed at the snakes, “are for a warrior’s protection and the solar cross represents equilibrium. And your mother didn’t say anything about it to you?” He looked up at her, black eyes meeting violet.

Nor to me.

“No, sir,” she said, wincing a little. Her head still throbbed slightly.

“Sir, she’s pale as a ghost,” her brother interjected. “Don’t you think she ought to lie down?”

“Yes, she should. I shall inform your morning teachers that you will not be present today. I will send a house-elf with your lunch--you are to inform me if you are still feeling unwell,” he said sternly. Evanna nodded. Truthfully, she found herself rather unsettled by the thought of being around people at the moment, so the admonishment was a welcome one. Besides, the next day was her birthday and she wished to be well-rested in order to put to good use whatever gifts she was to be given.

She should have known better. Somehow, having taken off the bracelet once seemed to lessen whatever powers it had over her headaches, for the next day it seemed to come in waves. Draco had frowned at her throughout the day, as she hadn’t bothered to open her presents, nor had she ate at lunch and had barely touched her breakfast. By the time the Halloween feast arrived, spots were flying across her vision.

“You’re not acting yourself, Ev,” Draco had said, placing a slice of beef wellington on her plate. The dish was usually her favorite, but tonight it simply turned her stomach. “Did you take off your bracelet again?”

“No, I’m not stupid,” she snapped harshly. The pain behind her temples really was building and she had no patience for her brother’s coddling. The smells of the feast were starting to get to her too. “I’m going to bed.”

She got up and left the table. Her headache lessened some as she left the Great Hall, and seemed to fade more as she got further away and into the dungeons.

“Bite…. Maim… kill….”

Evanna jerked around, the voice sending chills down her spine. She began walking faster, but the voice seemed to be going in the same direction that she was.

“So hungry… kill… hungry…”

She was running now, holding her hands over her ears as she sprinted through the corridors, praying that whatever it was would not thing her prey, that she would get to the Slytherin Common Room in time.

“I smell blood…. I SMELL BLOOD!”

Evanna ran into someone, both of them falling backwards into a pile. Evann sat up, clutching the back of her head where it had hit the stone. She felt a little blood, and the thought set her heart pounding.

She can hear it too.

Harry Potter was looking at her with those wide green eyes, but Evanna had no time for that. They had to get out of the corridor before anything bad happened.

“C’mon, you idiot!” she cried, standing up unsteadily before reaching out a hand for Potter. His hand was warm. “We don’t want it to get us!”

They ran down the corridor, hand in hand, rounding the corner only to be splashing in a puddle of water. Evanna fought the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust, but that was before Potter came to a full stop, staring aghast at the wall. Foot-high letters had been painted there in something that looked suspiciously like blood. Even worse--there was a cat hanging by its tail, completely frozen.

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened,” Potter murmured. “Enemies of the heir, beware.”

Evanna’s headache was back in full force. She turned, noticing the halls slowly filling with more students. Her brother was at the front of the line. His eyes narrowed when he saw her, still holding hands with Potter. She jumped back from him. He seemed to be confused, hurt even, at the gesture until he turned to see the growing crowds. She noticed his friends, Weasley and Granger, pushing their ways toward him.

“Enemies of the heir, beware,” her brother read off the wall. He sneered at Granger. “That means you’re next, Mudbloods.”

“Get out of my way, excuse me--outta--”

A scream rent the air and an older Ravenclaw student fell to her knees in the center of the crowd, tears pouring down her face.

“My cat!” she howled. “Someone killed my cat!”

It was Eliza McLaird, the one who stole Luna’s shoes.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter au #harry potter oc #harry potter #evanna malfoy #pro draco #draco malfoy #mind reader #severus snape #severus x narcissa #pro snape #pro slytherin #bellamort had a baby.#bellamort #my ao3 #my fanfic stuff #my fanfiction #my fan character #my fanfic ideas

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