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faetedwill · 2 years

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12 Feet Deep || Sloane & Cass & Leah

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Beyond the Grave PARTIES: @faetedwill @stolensiren @phoenixleah SUMMARY: Cass is lured to Beyond the Grave by Sloane’s mom for a selfish rendition of the classique banshee ritual; the activation. In the aftermath, Leah hears the scream(s) thinking it’s Regan and comes to the rescue. CONTENT WARNINGS: Allusions to emotional abuse, parental death, gore (not detailed)

Shannon sat with her back to the front entrance, fingers tapping delicately and melodically against the vinyl countertop. It would only be a matter of time before Cassidy arrived. There was a part of her that felt guilty for leading the girl astray, but all would be understood in due time. Her own daughter would learn to forgive her once she could feel the pull of fate, she just knew it. Sloane’s phone sat in front of her, the text message sent to Cassidy being as simple as meet me at Beyond The Grave. There had been no lying involved, and therefore no deep, unsettling feeling stirring about in her chest.

It was about twenty minutes later that Cassidy walked through that Shannon turned around, smile broadened. It was a pity they would have to do this downtown of all places, and though it would be dangerous, there was a backroom that could accommodate them well. Once Sloane arrived, the door would need to be locked. “Cass, welcome.” Shannon moved from behind the counter and gestured for the young girl to follow her towards the back. “I believe Sloane stepped out for just a moment. Why don’t you help me back here until she gets back?”

Her heart skipped a beat when Sloane texted her. Ever since that day in the other girl’s bedroom, when she’d told Cass she didn’t want to see her anymore, the siren had been plagued by a sense of grief. She missed the way Sloane’s voice made her heart skip a beat, missed the way she laughed in the kind of way that made all the bad things fall away, missed how she felt around her. More than any of it, though, she missed her friend. Sloane’s text felt like a life preserver thrown into the middle of the ocean after days of treading water. It didn’t solve everything at once, but it gave her some semblance of hope to hold onto. And she could use it to stay afloat for however long it took for a ship to come in.

Still, she was nervous as she made her way to Beyond the Grave, heart pounding in her chest. Sloane wasn’t the type to call her here just to throw salt in her wounds, but the terrified part of Cass that was so used to being left behind insisted that she might be planning on doing just that. Her hand trembled as she pushed the door open, and she faltered in the doorway as she stepped inside. There was no sign of Sloane anywhere; instead, it was Shannon who greeted her. “Uh. Hi.” It was unexpected, to be sure. Maybe Sloane had changed her mind about wanting Cass to talk to her mother? But then why not say that? Why the vague text? Hesitantly, the siren followed Sloane’s mother towards the back. “Okay. Yeah. Um, did she… tell you I was coming?”

Cassidy looked confused. It seemed as though Sloane had cut the other girl off after finding her at their home. Why her daughter was being so difficult, Shannon would never know. “She didn’t, no, but I assume you’re here for her?” With a tilt of her head, the banshee skirted around the answer to Cassidy’s question in half-truths. Technically Sloane hadn’t been the one to tell her that Cassidy would be coming. “Maybe she wanted it to be a surprise. Follow me, please.”

Shannon didn’t give Cassidy time to decide to hang back, and instead headed into the back room where her office was. On the walls were plaques, photos, as well as a taxidermy bobcat. “You’re more than welcome to take a seat and wait.” Shannon gestured towards the plush velvet chair in the corner of the room. It was by far one of the most expensive things the Kennedy family owned, and it was only because Shannon felt it important to fit the part in their nature of business. “Would you like anything? Water?”

“Yeah. She texted me.” Cass pulled out her phone again, opening the text as if to reassure herself that it was real. If she’d misunderstood somehow, if Sloane hadn’t wanted her to come here, her being here was only going to widen the rift that had been opened between them. Making the same mistake after Sloane had made it painfully clear how she felt about it would be the kind of move there was no hope of coming back from. But the text stared up at her, just as vague and heart-stopping as it had been when it had first lit up her screen. Cass tapped her phone screen absently, finding some relief in the message. Maybe Shannon was right — maybe Sloane had wanted this to be a surprise, somehow.

Nodding, she followed Shannon back to her office, glancing around as she settled into the cushioned chair in the corner. It was comfortable enough to make her relax just a little, even as the nerves continued to cause her stomach to flutter. The offer of water was one that elicited another nod; she wasn’t really thirsty, but it would give her something to do with her hands besides cradling her phone, offer something to focus on that wasn’t the pounding of her heart. “Water would be great.” She almost added a thank you as a nervous habit, biting the words off at the last moment despite the fact that this was Sloane’s mother. Marina and Correy and their fae lessons were the kind of thing that stuck, after all. “Um, did Sloane say when she’d be here?” She wasn’t sure how much Sloane would want her talking to Shannon, despite the fact that she’d only come at the other girl’s invitation. After the way their last face-to-face had ended, it was easy to second-guess everything she did, easy to wonder if each move she made was right or wrong. Cass was nervous in a way she’d never been nervous with Sloane before. And that hurt a little, too.

Shannon offered Cassidy a gracious smile before she turned to the mini fridge that sat in the other corner of the room. She opened it and grabbed a water bottle, twisting the cap preemptively for the young girl before handing it over. “Oh, I’m not certain… she comes and goes, as you know.” Shannon waved a hand in the air before taking a seat at her desk, swiveling the chair around to face the younger girl. She seemed uneasy. What kind of fight she and Sloane could have had, Shannon was uncertain. It wasn’t like her daughter to quarrel. Then again, her daughter begging her to consider somebody else for their ritual was enough to convince Shannon that perhaps she did not know her daughter as well as she thought she did.

“My daughter tends to do what she pleases, though I suppose that’s not all bad considering I believe in having agency over one’s will.” Shannon kept the smile intact as she turned towards her computer, moving her mouse around absentmindedly, clicking into her e-mail and then out, trying to find something to busy herself. It shouldn’t be this difficult, finding the words to say to somebody on the younger side. Though, she supposed the conversations she had with her daughter were far different than those she had with others who did not understand the way in which fae lived and existed.

After a moment, the sound of the front door opening alerted Shannon to Sloane’s arrival. “Ah, here she is.” A smile, brighter than the last, pulled at her lips as she moved towards the desk drawer. Inside was the dagger that her daughter carried on her person for the last several years, and it was only fit that this be the blade to do the job. “We’re in here, darling.”

Sloane had forgotten her phone and really, it took her way too long to realize it. It wasn’t until she was halfway to campus that she felt its absence and had to make the trip back to her mom’s shop. The pain from her run-in with Nicole was still present, making it hard to open the front door of the shop. Once inside, she took careful note of her mom’s absence, but saw her phone on the front desk. It didn’t take long for her mom to call for her, and thinking that the we meant her father, Sloane headed towards the back.

To her surprise, it wasn’t her dad who sat across from her mom. “Cass.” Sloane felt her heart drop into her stomach and she looked over to see her mom brandishing her dagger. “Cass, come on.” Sloane grabbed Cass’s hand, dragging her back towards the front entrance.

“Sloane’s her own person,” Cass agreed, tone fond even in spite of the tension that existed between her and her friend now. It was her own fault things with Sloane had become what they had. None of it made her care about the other girl any less. It might have been easier if it had, simpler, but… Cass wasn’t built that way. She cared too much, sometimes. But she didn’t regret it, either. Not with Sloane. Regardless of how angry Sloane might be with her now, her friend deserved to have people care about her. Cass had never doubted that for a moment.

The bell above the door sounded, and Cass was ashamed to admit that she felt a flood of relief at the sound. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if Sloane hadn’t anticipated her mother being here when she’d asked Cass to meet her, thought it was a strange thought. Why wouldn’t Shannon be at her place of work in the middle of a work day? But why wouldn’t Sloane tell Shannon Cass was meeting her? The pieces didn’t fit together quite right.

Preoccupied by Sloane’s arrival and her own flood of unspoken questions, Cass didn’t pay much attention to Shannon’s movements. Her eyes were glued to the door, and she offered Sloane a small, uncertain smile as she entered. Something was off, though. Sloane looked surprised to see her, like she hadn’t been expecting it. Uncertainly, Cass stood.

“Yeah, we can go,” she agreed, some confusion furrowing her brow. “But I don’t — Why did you ask me to meet you here if you don’t want me here? And why wouldn’t you tell…” She turned back to Shannon, trailing off when she saw the glint of the dagger in the woman’s hand. A strange thing to fiddle with mid-conversation, but this was White Crest, wasn’t it? Plenty of people had knives. Ari had, like, a billion. So why was there a pit in Cass’s stomach now? Turning back to Sloane, she let the confusion on her face ask all the questions she was afraid to put to words.

“I can explain later, but we have to go.” Sloane’s hands were clammy as she dug her fingers into Cass’s wrist. Her friend was still alive, and it would stay that way. Cass would grow old and she would die old. She wouldn’t fall apart for Sloane’s activation, Sloane refused to let that happen. She couldn’t. Not only did Sloane care about her, but there were other people who cared about her, too, and Sloane wouldn’t let those people lose her to an untimely death. This was different than those who had fallen to fate before, because this wasn’t Cass’s fate. This was a cop out by her own mom who refused to follow the nature of their rituals, and while Sloane couldn’t blame her— she didn’t want to lose her dad, it was unfair that Cass was being used as some kind of crutch.

Sloane managed to get Cass through the door of the office out into the main room. Before she could push the other girl in front of her, the sound of heels clicking against the tile sounded, and in a flash, Cass was being ripped from her grip. “Mom, please!” Sloane turned around frantically, chest heaving as she noticed the blade at Cass’s throat.

Shannon would not allow her daughter to throw this away. After the years of training and explanations— of the stories and promises built between them without the actual bind, she refused to allow her daughter to make a mockery of not only fate, but of her. As soon as Sloane approached, guiding Cassidy through the doorway, Shannon leapt into action. She crossed the distance easily, manicured nails digging into Cassidy’s arm as she tore the girl away from her daughter.

The dagger was at the brunette’s throat now, and Shannon knew what she had to do. There was no other choice, and this was the only way. “I’m disappointed in you, mo leanbh.” She applied the dagger’s pressure against Cassidy’s neck, her opposite hand on the young girl’s shoulder digging into the clavicle. “You knew the cost, and I’ve waited so long for you to join me, I will not allow you to destroy everything for some crush, especially on a human, no less.”

It was clear that Sloane was desperate, and while Cass might not understand the situation fully, she could empathize with her friend’s clear fear. She allowed Sloane to lead her out of the office, glancing nervously down to where her arm was secured in Sloane’s grip. “I’m sorry,” she said uncertainly. “I just — You texted. I thought…” That was her problem, wasn’t it? She always thought wrong. She always made the wrong choice. “I didn’t even know your mom would be here. I — I would have… Waited outside if I knew. I swear.”

She might have said more; in fact, she probably would have. Cass had a habit of rambling when she was nervous, and she was certainly nervous now. But before she could launch into a myriad of apologies and desperate pleas, a firm grip on her shoulder was yanking her backwards. “Whoa, what —” Cool metal settled against her throat, and Cass froze. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was the same dagger Shannon had been holding before. The one that had looked sharp and deadly. And she wondered, with her heart pounding in her chest, just what she’d stumbled into here.

Her first thought was that Shannon was a hunter. It fit well enough with her perception of them, with the experiences she’d had with them in the past. They could sense her, Metzli had said once, could tell what she was just by being around her. Could kill her for it. But if Shannon were a hunter, it would mean Sloane was one, too, and Sloane had never given Cass any reason to think that of her.

The more Shannon spoke, the more obvious it became that the hunter theory was out the window. This was something else, something strange and new. Cass might have an easier time focusing on it if not for the blade cutting into her throat, the thin line of blood running down as she swallowed nervously against the metal. She found herself caught on two words — human and crush. The former was utterly untrue, though neither Sloane nor Shannon was aware of it. And the latter…

Cass’s eyes flickered up to meet Sloane’s. This wasn’t really how she’d wanted to confirm that her crush was a mutual thing. There was no warmth to the realization the way there would have been without the knife against her throat, and any pleasant fluttering she felt was outweighed entirely by the icy fear that seemed to have taken over. “I don’t — I don’t understand what’s happening, but this isn’t… Sloane wasn’t going to mess anything up. We’re just friends. That’s all. You don’t have to do whatever you’re doing, please.”

Sloane didn’t know what to do. Her phone was too far away to call anyone, and even if she did manage to get ahold of Correy, Marina, or even Metzli, they’d be too late. Her mom would carry on with the plan, and though Sloane hadn’t promised that Cass wouldn’t lose her life, she might as well have had done so. She stood frozen across from them, the blood dribbling down Cass’s neck stark against her tanned skin. As much as Sloane had wanted to fall into step alongside fate, this was not how she wanted it to happen. Sloane swallowed thickly, glancing over her shoulder through the windows to see if anyone might see them. Sloane didn’t want her mom to get hurt in this, either. It was more than a difficult situation— it was terrorizing Sloane.

“Please, mom.” Sloane’s voice left her, thick and distorted. This was unlike the stories she had heard of others’ activations. Her own mother’s hadn’t been this perverse, despite the loss of her own father. “I’m begging you. Please. Not her, I’ll— I’ll find you somebody else. Just not her.” Sloane itched to reach forward, to tear Cass out of her mom’s grip, but that could end up with the dagger lodged further into her throat.

“I told you I refused to allow you to make a mockery of us. Of this family, of yourself. You will not stand in the way of your own purpose, Sloane.” Shannon spoke low and quick, smile spreading as she gripped Cassidy’s shoulder tighter, dagger pressed firmly against her throat with about as equal pressure of her fingers digging into her clavicle so that she couldn’t easily move from beneath her grip.

Shannon looked from Sloane to behind her, taking note of a man across the way. Something stirred in her chest; the beginnings of a scream. What a wonderful opportunity to incapacitate Cassidy so that she wouldn’t make this harder than it needed to be. Of course, Shannon could keep hold and allow the scream to fill the young girl’s chest, but that would only further instill her daughter’s hatred towards this decision. Quick and clean, that was how it needed to be. Shannon let go of Cassidy before the scream made its way through her chest and out of her throat. The man across the way would die with a knife to his abdomen, and it would be painful. She could see it so clearly, and soon, Sloane would join her.

The scream shook the store’s foundation. Shannon had taken precautions, hopeful to protect herself, but she hadn’t thought of the way that the building might buckle beneath the pressure of her scream. The ceiling began to groan, its decades old structure unable to withstand the pressure. The light fixture directly over herself and Cassidy started to unhinge from its bolt— a forgotten project, and one that would lead to Shannon’s untimely demise.

Sloane knew the telltale signs of a scream— had been raised staring into her mother’s darkened eyes as her skin became crackled with a midnight black. Was this scream for Cass? It couldn’t be, she thought. Sloane surged forward as soon as her mom let go of Cass, grabbing onto her hand, pulling her backwards. In the rush, she hadn’t taken notice to how unaffected Cass was by her mom’s scream. All she could think of was keeping her out of harm’s way, of getting her out the door before her mom came to.

Instead, Sloane watched as the lighting fixture just above her mother became unhinged, its sharp edge driving itself directly into the woman’s chest, coming out through the other end. Frozen, Sloane stared at her mom as she tried to piece together what had just happened. Sloane let go of Cass’s hand, throat constricting— something stirred in her chest, her skin crawled. Everything felt hot— everything felt— no. The struggle to control the scream, to keep quiet as she’d been taught failed miserably as the scream tore its way through Sloane’s chest, splitting from her in a way that she’d been taught it would. The ceiling groaned once more, tested by the second scream— only this one lasted longer than it should have. Grief struck Sloane, and she felt herself spinning out.

Sloane didn’t have time to move before the ceiling collapsed, rotten wooden beams falling from overhead. The opposite end of the lighting fixture snapped loose sending her mom to the ground, now covered in the rubble as the building shook beneath the aftereffects of the two screams.

None of it made any kind of sense to Cass. Not the knife against her throat, not Sloane offering to find ‘someone else’ to fill the shoes the siren was in now, not Shannon’s frustration. Why did it have to be anyone at all? Why did Shannon — and evidently, Sloane — think that someone needed to die here? What did any of it have to do with Sloane’s purpose, as Shannon had put it? Cass had a thousand questions, and it didn’t seem as though any of them would be answered. And it felt supremely unfair to die without knowing why. It felt so cruel.

Suddenly, Shannon froze behind her and, for a moment, Cass thought that this was it. She was going to put that promised pressure on the knife in her hand, was going to spill Cass’s blood all over the pristine floor for reasons no one thought to tell her. And of all the ways Cass had thought she might die — because she had thought of it, thanks to both the nature of White Crest and the uncertainty she’d lived with all her life — this had never been one of them. She could have never seen this coming.

But that knife didn’t find a home in her throat — at least, not yet. Shannon shoved her forward, letting out a piercing scream that… oh. A piercing scream that Cass recognized. She’d heard Regan do the same thing, after all, in the woods the day they’d met Bigfoot. A banshee. Sloane’s mother was a banshee. Which must mean that Sloane was a banshee. Which filled in some gaps, maybe, but not everything. Not why it was happening.

Sloane grabbed Cass and pulled her to safety, and the light fixture that was above them rumbled. Cass didn’t have time to call out a warning, but she wasn’t sure it would have mattered. The light fell, sharp and deadly not unlike the woman it landed on. And then…

Another scream, from Sloane this time. Loud and mournful and powerful enough to tear the whole world apart. The ceiling began to fall, and Cass threw herself on top of Sloane, curled up with her and tried to make them both targets too small to be hit by the falling debris. It seemed an impossible task. She felt like the chicken in that old story, screaming out for anyone who would listen. The sky was falling. The sky was falling. And all Cass could do, superpowers be damned, was try to protect Sloane from the damage.

A simple walk was never just a walk in White Crest. At least it wasn’t for Leah Ramirez. The Autumn air was turning brisk and chilled, and normally, she loved the contrast it held against her warm skin. People seemed jovial, for some reason, a stark contrast to the usual dim mood that White Crest’s citizens boasted. So it made sense, then, why she was so surprised and taken off guard when she heard the tell-tale sign of a banshee scream a few blocks away. “Regan…”, she whispered, and then took off down the street toward where the noise came from.

For some reason, the banshee screams in town were typically explained away as moose, which made even less sense than the explanations everyone tried to offer for the fish rain. But as funny as the explanation could be, banshee screams around town always tended to place a turn in her stomach she just couldn’t solve until she knew Regan was okay. Activation was never easy, but Regan had gone through enough in the last few years to make all her screams concerning, especially when you consider all the trauma she had associated with her species. She had the displeasure of being in person for one of them only once, and she was feeling the effects of it, even all these weeks later. Her chest pinched and stabbed with every inch of her run, but she didn’t care.

Leah only stopped dead in her tracks when she heard another scream, this one much louder. Was it because she was much closer to it, now? What kind of mess was happening in the middle of downtown that a Regan was screaming twice in the middle of the day? She took off running again, this time at double speed.

The sight she eventually found left no doubt in her mind where the screams had taken place. She stood staring, breathless and confused, at the collapsed building. Surrounding buildings were void of windows, their glass littering the ground and the surrounding dented cars. People were looking at the sight confused, and she saw some approaching to help. Others took out their phones, but she didn’t waste time to see whether it was to document what was going on or to call for help. She didn’t bother waiting, and instead ran right to the debris, trying to move what she could and see if she could find Regan underneath. “Regan!”, she called, struggling under the weight of some wood. “Where are you?!”

Sloane choked on the dust that settled overtop of her. The rotten beams had splintered overtop of the three that had succumbed to the weight of the ceiling falling through on top of them, and though she was too disoriented to tell the true damage apart from the grief that laid overtop of her like a blanket, she knew something wasn’t right. It took her longer than it should have to come to, mind moving against the reality of her situation, of their situation.

Cass. Sloane felt somebody on top of her— she thought it was her mom until she remembered. The sharp edge of the light fixture branded in her mind as it pierced through her mom’s chest, the way she crumpled like the stuffed bear Sloane pushed in between her pillows all of those years. It spun and it spun, mocking Sloane. Fate had a funny way of playing itself out, but right now wasn’t the time to grieve. She had to get out and then she could address the feeling that stirred in her chest– the anger, the fear, the way that it felt like she was being split a thousand different ways.

“Cass,” Sloane coughed, chest heaving. She half-expected to see her with blood coming out of her ears and nose, but instead she was met with the scraped girl who hadn’t left her side despite Sloane’s urgency. “Are you—“

The voice from just inside cut off Sloane mid sentence. Regan’s name echoed across the rubble causing the banshee only confusion. At least, until it clicked. Somebody thought Regan had done this. She could hardly move, one of the larger, less deteriorated banisters hanging over herself and Cass across one of the less sturdy beams. “Over here,” Sloane managed to get out, voice hoarse. Too afraid to raise it too loud, she tried to push her hand through to the other side. She’d let whoever it was discover for herself that it wasn’t Regan. She couldn’t chance them not helping her just because she wasn’t who they were looking for. Her mind was still spinning from the chaos of it all to piece together that it was somebody she might know.

“I’m okay,” Cass said quickly, recognizing Sloane’s concern. And… she was okay, for the most part. Her chest was heaving, her throat stung where Shannon’s knife had nicked her, and she was certain she’d have some pretty wild bruises when all was said and done, but she was fine. Sure her ears were ringing a little, and there was blood on the floor where Sloane’s mother had spilled it, and her heart was pounding in her chest, but it was nothing Cass couldn’t handle. She was more worried about Sloane.

Sloane, who had just watched her mother die, who had screamed the world to pieces with the grief of it. Cass couldn’t imagine how it must have felt. One of the few benefits, she thought, of never knowing your mother was never knowing what it would be like to lose her. And considering the closest thing she had to one now was a nymph who was sure to live another hundred years or so, it was likely that Cass would never be where Sloane was now.

And what that meant, in this moment, was that Cass had no idea how to comfort her friend. She had no idea what to do, what to say. Nothing would be enough. Words failed, actions fell short. All Cass could do was keep her arms around Sloane and shield her from the only thing left to fall — dust.

A voice cut through the stifling quiet that came after the collapse, familiar and bringing with it a swell of relief. If anyone would know what to do, it would be Leah. Leah always knew what to do. Sloane called out, though she made no move to correct the mistaken identity. Cass wondered if all banshee screams sounded the same or if Leah just loved Regan enough to hear her voice in all of them. “Leah, we need some help!” She added her voice to the fray, hoping to help give Leah a better idea of where they were.

Close up, the damage was even worse than Leah first surmised. She looked at the rubble, trying to find any trace of Regan beneath, wondering if she had enough tears this time. A voice called back, and then another, and though she recognized both of them, they were decidedly not Regan. It gave her paused. She had been so convinced it was Regan’s scream she heard (after all, time after time that theory had proven true), that she hadn’t even thought to consider it might be another banshee in town. She wasn’t aware of any banshee families in the area, and least not on a first name basis. Not since Deirdre.

Her pause only lasted a moment, because before long she was climbing over the rubble, heading toward the direction of the voices and hoping to provide them some sort of respite. Though she recognized them, she couldn’t quite place them, not with the adrenaline and the rubble and the worry. She lifted up a large piece of wood, spotting the outline of a person underneath. “Cass?”, she asked, squinting, then working in double time to remove the rubble from above her. It was a relief, in some way, that Cass was the other voice she’d heard. The scream wouldn’t have hurt her, not really, and so the only other being that was with them was the screamer themself. Or, at least, she hoped that was the case.

“Who’s with you?”, she asked with desperation. “Who… was it? Is everyone okay?” She couldn’t see the other figure; couldn’t make out who it was. There was a small crowd gathering, most likely of people who had been in the area, and Leah was worried about the potential backlash of people trying to investigate what happened. “We need to get out of here, fast.”

What had once been pain only in her shoulder and chest had begun to blossom throughout her entire body. Her throat and chest were on fire, grief and anger struggling to one up another over what had happened. Sloane was too afraid that if she managed to be dug out from beneath the rubble that she might see her mom, even if only a hand, and that it’d set her off once more. The sound of Leah’s voice was clear as day now. Leah. Sloane could trust Leah.

The sound of something moving, and then, after what felt like eons, light. It came in small streams at first, and honestly, Sloane was too afraid to look, to even address Leah. The older woman’s questions cut like a knife through the groaning of what was left of the building. At any moment, the rest of it could come crashing down on them. “It’s— Sloane, it’s Sloane.” Sloane moved out from beneath Cass, a shaking hand positioned on the girl’s shoulder. Her hair and clothes were covered in dust and pieces of rotten wood.

There was a pain at her back now, too, and Sloane swallowed the urge to cry out as she tried to move upwards. She was stuck underneath something, even with Cass laying over top of her. Sloane awkwardly splayed her hand backwards trying to find what it was, wincing as her hand came away wet with blood. “I’m stuck.” It hadn’t occurred to her yet that what was beneath a broken gravestone was one of her newly acquired wings. “I can’t move.“ She tried to get out from beneath it again, a sharp whine leaving her as another groan from the building echoed overhead of them.

“It’s…” Cass glanced hesitantly down at Sloane beneath her, chest aching for reasons that had nothing at all to do with the rubble on top of her and everything to do with blood on the floor that was not her own and grief cutting the air in a way she would never understand. “It’s my friend. Sloane.” She wasn’t sure if the description was accurate anymore. Would Sloane want to be her friend, after all of this? Cass still didn’t entirely understand what had happened, but she thought it was at least partially her fault. She thought Sloane’s mother wouldn’t be dead beneath this rubble if she’d listened to Sloane from the beginning and stayed away when she was meant to.

But that wasn’t important right now. No matter how Sloane felt about her when all of this was over, Cass was going to make sure that she was okay to feel it. She shifted off Sloane when Leah lifted the rubble, moving back to crouch beside her instead. When she caught a full glimpse of her for the first time since that scream had pierced the air, her breath caught in her throat. Wings stretched out beneath Sloane, coming from her back. Thin and moth-like and beautiful unlike anything Cass had ever seen. Taking note of the way one was trapped beneath a slab of granite that didn’t yet bear a name, the siren scrambled forward and shoved the broken gravestone to the side with all her mite, just barely possessing the strength to properly move it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said quietly, cupping Sloane’s face in her hand briefly. “It’s all right.” She glanced back to Leah, adrenaline still pumping through her. She told herself adamantly that that was what was making her hands tremble, that that was what made her breath come in quick, shuddering gasps. Not even the best con artists could fully con themselves, but Cass could sure as hell try it. “We definitely need to get out of here,” she agreed, eyes darting across the room to land, briefly, on the pile of rubble she knew Shannon lay beneath. Sloane didn’t need to see whatever state her mother’s body must be in now. Sloane didn’t need to see any of this, really.

The building gave another groan, offering another reason in favor of a quick getaway. “I — We need to get her someplace safe. Please, Leah, please, I need your help. I need her to be okay, and — and safe. And not here.”

And maybe she needed more than that, too, but she didn’t know how to say it. She didn’t know how to explain that tightness in her chest, didn’t know how to justify the way her eyes burned and her cheeks felt wet. Cass hadn’t lost anything. She hadn’t. There was no reason why it should be this hard to breathe, no reason why she should feel this strange sense of emptiness in her chest. She was fine. The thin line on her throat probably wouldn’t even leave a scar, the worst of the bruising would be gone in a week or two. She was fine. She was.

“Is there somewhere we can go? It should be — We need to get away from here. She needs to get away from here.”

Leah noticed Sloane, small and scared and buried underneath much more than just rubble, before she heard her verify who she was. So Cass and Sloane were friends. It surprised her more than it should have, but she didn’t have much time to think about it. Not now. Not when there was so much at risk. And then, there wasn’t much time for Leah to question if it were Sloane who screamed, or someone else who had fled before she arrived. Cass had shoved aside the slab of stone, and there, clear as day, was a set of beautiful, ornate, yellow and black wings. “Sloane…”, she breathed out, although her gaze was traveling between the two girls. She nodded at Cass, trying to be reassuring despite the terror at their situation growing in her stomach, and got back to work removing the rest of the rubble from around them as quickly as she could.

“We’ll go to the library”, she said beneath groans as she pulled the last bits of granite away. “We have a huge basement that only my sister and I have the key to-... no one will be able to find you there.” She stood up, reaching her hand out to Cass to help her up first, hoping they’d both be able to pull Sloane up together. “My car is around the corner, there’s a vial of phoenix tears in the glove compartment. Should be enough to…” She looked to Cass’ throat, biting her lip. Her words had been sort of a stream of consciousness until then, but the sight stopped her in her tracks. It seemed the more she learned about whatever had gone on here, the less she knew. Leah couldn’t let herself get caught up in the emotion of it all, not yet. “Books, too, that might help explain what’s going on…”

Maybe it was a little ironic, having been worried that Cass might accidentally let what was happening slip if Sloane would have filled her in, especially considering the fact that half of downtown was in front of their storefront now. As much as she wanted to shrink beneath the debris, she knew she had to get up and leave. If she was found here alongside her mom, what would they think? She had a better shot coming out of this unscathed if she wasn’t on the property by the time emergency services showed up and she knew it.

Sloane looked into Cass’s eyes as the other girl cupped her face. Her skin was warm, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that Sloane was deathly cool now, she wasn’t certain. Sloane’s gaze lazily swept up to meet Leah’s who seemed frantic enough for all three of them. Everything felt like it was in a haze, and there was a constant vibration beneath her skin now. She wondered if this was what it would always feel like. Cass was panicking and Sloane wanted to reach out, to tell her that it would be okay, but would it? Would any of this be okay? Would they be okay after this?

As both Leah and Cass discussed their erratically laid out plan, Sloane was left to lay beneath the rubble, feeling more helpless than she had been even prior to her activation with only a canister of bear spray in her hand. The more that slabs of stone and rotten wood were moved away, the more Sloane felt like she could breathe. Finally, she was able to move out from beneath the rubble. As Leah spoke, Sloane tried to listen, but the constant stir in her mind, as well as her chest made it almost impossible to focus. She felt dazed, like there was some kind of cloak pulled over her, but she saw all of it that much clearer, too. It was confusing. Even though Leah had mentioned phoenix tears, Sloane felt something else trigger her.

“Wait—“ Sloane choked on the word, grabbing Cass’s hand. She felt herself stumbling even though she hadn’t yet gotten to her feet. “You’re— your ears, you—“ Sloane glanced between Cass and Leah, dark gaze searching from the injury at Cass’s throat to the way that she seemed fine, save for the trauma that Sloane couldn’t see, and maybe the couple hundred cuts that matched her own. Cass wasn’t hurt. Cass wasn’t hurt. Not by her at least. Sloane swallowed thickly and held onto Cass’s arm, her refusal to let go evident in the set of her jaw as she tried to maneuver herself up from the pile of rubble. The pain in her leg and shoulder was enough to send her back down to her knees as she tried to get up without help and she let out a low enough whine to not disturb the falling building anymore than she already had. “I’m sorry,” Sloane muttered as she grit her teeth, willing the pain to subside so that she could make it out of here— so they could make it out of here.

The library. It had always been something of a safe space, even before Cass knew Leah as well as she did now. She nodded quickly at the suggestion, feeling some relief that they had some semblance of a plan in place. If Leah hadn’t happened along, what would she have done? What would have happened? Cass was utterly useless to Sloane like this, all trembling hands and pounding pulse. She didn’t know enough about banshees to be any kind of help, didn’t know anything more than what she’d learned from Regan and what Marina had told her.

But Leah did. That much was obvious, given her lack of surprise at Sloane’s new wings or the way she’d come running expecting a different banshee, but a banshee all the same. Leah knew enough to have something of a plan in place and they were so lucky that she’d been here. They were so lucky that it hadn’t been left to Cass. Because when things we left to Cass…

Her eyes drifted again to the pile of rubble where, somewhere underneath, Sloane’s mother lay dead. She thought of that motel room with the dead hunter, of Jackrabbit in the woods. This was what happened, wasn’t it, when Cass tried to help people? This was what happened when she tried to solve problems. People got hurt. People got killed. And Cass was left in the aftermath, never knowing how to rebuild in any kind of way that mattered.

A cold hand grabbed hers, shocking her from her thoughts for a moment. A quick glance down showed that it was Sloane’s, and Cass wondered if she was freezing. Was this a circulation thing? God, she was so out of her depth that it hurt. She swallowed at Sloane’s question, chest constricting for a moment. It felt like she was underwater, like she was at the bottom of the ocean without Levi or any diving equipment to make it survivable.

Sloane was apologizing to her. With her mother dead just a few feet away, with her world laying in the rubble around them. Cass tried to make sense of it and couldn’t. She shook her head quickly, kneeling down next to the injured banshee and putting Sloane’s arm over her shoulder in a silent offer to carry the physical weight for her. The physical weight wasn’t going to be the heavy part, Cass knew, but it was the only thing she could help with now. “Hey, no. You don’t have to be sorry for anything, okay? This isn’t your fault. This never would have happened if…” If Cass had listened to Sloane from the beginning. If she hadn’t decided to try to make Shannon love her, even when Sloane told her to stay away. If she were the sort of person who could just exist in a world where not everyone wanted her around all of the time. If she weren’t so stupid, so needy, so reckless. If she were someone else, Shannon would be alive and Sloane wouldn’t be hurt. Cass knew that. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sloane. I should have listened to you.” She swallowed, turning back to Leah. “Can — Will you help me? She’s hurt, I don’t… Can you help us to the car?”

Leah watched the interaction between Cass and Sloane with piqued interest as she cleared more debris. From their closeness and the way they looked at each other, Leah had assumed they were very close, great friends or even something more, but Sloane’s fascination at Cass’ lack of physical reaction to the scream proved that they were still learning each other’s ins and outs. Relationships in White Crest were funny that way. With some people so desperate to keep themselves safe, you could have a friend of a lifetime and never know that they weren’t human.

She wanted to give them their privacy. She wanted them to be able to share whatever this was between them without interruption, but their safety was much more important. So instead of staying out of it, Leah helped Cass lift up Sloane. She helped them walk the few blocks to her car, and she loaded them both gently in the back seat, so they could sit by each other and share whatever they needed without a nosy onlooker. The drive to the library wasn’t long, but it felt heavy, like the air on a rainy day. They may have picked up all of the physical debris they could, but Leah had a feeling they had a lot more cleaning up to do.

#chatzy: 12 feet deep #chatzy: cass #chatzy: leah #wickedswriting #gore tw #parental death tw #emotional abuse tw

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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

Text

Yandere Headcanon: Worship

Yandere Forgotten God (tentacle monster) x GN Reader

TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, gore, dubcon, and yandere themes

He was an ancient chaos god, one that was once revered amongst humans a millennium ago. But over time he had been forgotten when his fishing village had become a city. Now he was nothing more than a tall tale. A god with no name. He no longer had a humanoid form but was now a blob of black tentacles. It was shameful how far he had fallen from grace from his own pride. He should have made sure he was never forgotten.

The god shouldn’t have been so cocky to believe that monk couldn’t seal him away but alas, this was the punishment he deserved for his insatiable greed.

So when you arrive to his shrine and accidentally break the millennium old ward, he’s shocked. Have his own prayers finally been answered? Has someone come to free him from this lonely existence?

“I’ve heard there was once a god of chaos here so I have come to pray to you… please hear my plea.” You then bowed down in respect to the shrine and cried a bit. “I do not wish to be married off to some senile, corrupt man. Please god, if you hear me, save me.” You cried before him. You wanted to be saved before married you off to some old nobleman. You shared your woes of how this man made your city nearly inhabitable with his high taxes and of his salacious behavior. How could he not be swayed? He felt obligated to help you.

And so the god did what he did best, he wreaked havoc. He used his supernatural abilities to cause a landslide onto that nobleman’s home, killing him instantly. Now you no longer had to worry about being a stupid old man’s property. You could continue on with your life worshipping him! Your god!

You visited his shrine daily and left him small offerings. Ones that he would have rejected in the past but was positively thrilled to have now. The god began to love you. How could he not be drawn to your genuine gratitude? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this thrilled with him… it must’ve been over a thousand years ago now? He didn’t know…

What he loved most about you was your smile. It warmed his heart and he adored it. You were his world and he wanted to be more humanoid for you…

When your visits became less frequent, he used that time away from you to try to shape his body once more. He wanted to be with you. To hold you. To touch you, but he couldn’t do that as a shapeless blob of tentacles… but he could if he was more humanoid.

And so here he was with a mostly humanoid body with functioning male reproductive organs… save for the tentacles that remained attached to his back. His face was picturesque but his extra limbs weren’t… it didn’t matter. He would do so much for you, more than any human man. You didn’t entirely have a choice.

The god diligently worked on his shrine to make it more inhabitable for you as well. He needed it to be perfect so the two of you could be here for all eternity together. Him and his savior! His beloved devotee!

When you returned to his shrine after a week of not seeing him with bruises on your face, he was livid. Who had harmed you? Why would they hurt you? Hurt his destined spouse? How dare they… how dare they.

You shared your woes and prayed for salvation once more, this time from your family. They believed you to now be bad luck due to the nobleman’s sudden death and began to verbally and physically abuse you. You looked so miserable… just like him. His poor, precious worshipper didn’t deserve such treatment. No. They deserved to be worshipped.

The god now had enough power to leave his shrine due to your generous offerings. Your worship gave him the power to become a great chaos god once more.

And the god once more inflicted his wrath upon your enemies. This time he tore them apart limb from limb, starting from their mouths to their hands and eventually to their feet. He wished to start out by ripping out the tongues that spat venomous words at you. To break every bone in their hands and feet for the pain they inflicted on you. For every sin committed against you, he would inflict it back tenfold.

This is the first time you were able to see his true form as well… you were so silent the entire time of his massacre of your family. Was he so gorgeous that you were speechless? How cute his darling was!

You began to sob when he held your face between his blood coated palms. The smell of iron was too much for you that you began to retch but he was oblivious that he was the reason of your disgust and fear. Those damn humans must be too much for you to be around… perhaps he should whisk his spouse away?

So he did just that. His arms and tentacles tightly wrapped around you as he whisked you off to your new home together. The revamped shrine. He hoped you’d love it since he worked so hard on making it habitable for the two of you!

You struggle in his grip but he doesn’t relent. You must be shy… how cute!

You try to push the tentacles from you, but they merely wrap around your form to gently massage you. He needed to calm you before you hurt yourself… it was okay!

“Be not afraid, my dear.” His voice made you jump in surprise but he chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you… you’re my beloved after all. My savior.”

“You’re the god of this shrine…” you whispered softly, which made the god eagerly nod. “You’re Xeros.”

Yes! That was his name! The one he had forgotten over the years. You were so sweet to remember his name…

You don’t even have time to protest before his tentacles wrap around your body in an enticing manner. The extra appendages slip into the waist band of your pants and tease your tight hole. You whine at the sudden touch but more tentacles wrap around your arms and legs to keep you in place

“Your offerings were wonderful but I need a better offering since I eliminated your problem…” Xeros smiled down at you with his hauntingly beautiful face. “I demand you as my offering. You will be my eternal spouse.”

“But I’m just a human- ack!” You gagged on the tentacle that was suddenly shoved into your mouth. Your eyes welled up with tears as the god beamed at you.

“It doesn’t matter to me what species you are. I’m a god. I will always get what I want.” Your back arched when one of his slimy tentacles finally breeched the tight ring of muscles and wriggled inside of you. You moaned loudly at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that overcame you.

“See? Why would you resist such pleasure?” Xeros leaned to whisper, his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, “I’m far better than any mortal lover. Don’t you think so?”

Your mind is too cloudy to form a coherent reply, your eyes rolled back in you head as his black tendrils ravish you. The tentacle in your mouth soon replaced with his tongue.

This was the way you should always be. You deserved every orifice of your body to be stuffed to the brim with him. To cry and whine in pleasure that ascends human comprehension. To be his spouse and to lay his eggs.

You deserved to be worshipped as his deity

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