#that slow burn found family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feyreswaterybowels · 29 days

Text

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

264 notes · View notes

destinywillowleaf · 6 months

Text

one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

#anyway i found their theme song and lost my mind #tragedyshipping #lloyd garmadon #ninjago #antigone #tagamemnon #pollshipping #i'm gonna be thinking about this for the next hour before i go to sleep #i just wanted to make a playlist for them i didn't think i would find a perfect fit #they have taken over many of my braincells and i can't even complain this is the enrichment i needed #all i'm saying is the idea of a movie trailer for these two is taking shape more and more and this should 100% be the accompanying song #not even a full trailer because that would take forever but like. a 30 second TV spot. family drama. them not really getting along at first #(e.g. glaring at each other while being forced to dance or something)#but then warming up to each other on the road because road trips have my soul when it comes to movies ok #i want them to stargaze in the bed of a hotwired pickup truck while on the run from people who demand bloodshed (a poll winner)#the slow(?) burn of not wanting to be in this mess to actually enjoying spending time together to something more #(trailer/commercial ends on or just after “baby you're so classic” with the cut to the title and in theaters date)#maybe most of the tv spot is them arguing and making life hell for one another but it's hard to deny there's something more brewing #(one of the reviews is just ''A modern classic'' because i think i'm funny)#i really want the title to be a play off of them meeting through the tragic tournament but it's completely different from the tone i want #''tragedy: null and void'' is a fun one #i've never been the greatest at titles if they don't hit me like a truck #anyway hi folks i'm sorry if you have no idea what's happening and see this in your tags

226 notes · View notes

moiravim · 10 months

Text

'I Miss When We First Met' Masterlist

Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Female YN, angst (hurt/comfort), slow burn, death.

Summary: YN Potter, adopted daugheter of James and Lily potter, falls in love with Draco Malfoy. As she gets sorted into Slytherin her relationship with her brother begins to fall apart. Soon she becomes friends with Luna, Neville, and Ginny. As the years go on YN and Draco form a secret relationship. When YN meets Lorenzo a love triangle forms, complicating things even more. Will Harry find out about the relationship between Draco and YN Will YN discover the identity of her biological parents?

Relations:

Draco x reader (romantic)

Lorenzo x reader (romantic)

Harry x Sister!reader (platonic)

Neville x reader (platonic)

Ginny x reader (platonic)

Luna x reader (platonic) etc.

Pinterest Board!!

Chapters

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapters 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

37.5

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Thank you so much for all the love I'm receiving on this story, I'm excited to write more and post it for you guys!!

This story is also being posted on my Wattpad, so if it's easier for you to read there, go ahead (my user there is also moiravim).

389 notes · View notes

tripleyeeet · 11 months

Text

WHO ARE YOU WHEN NOBODY’S WATCHING?

"WHAT IF TOGETHER WE WERE LESS LONELY?"

PAIRINGS: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

TAGS: Angst, (eventual) smut, enemies to lovers, soulmate au, slow burn, found family, mentions of mental illness, canon typical violence (will tag accordingly).

MASTERLIST

PLAYLISTS:

hate that i love you

in another universe, i know you well

ISSUE #1:

figure you out

in another universe, maybe

do i know you?

nothing compares to you

lessons in confessing

is the memory really mine?*

*issue #2, chapter 7 will be arriving soon!

(if you'd like to be added to the taglist fill out this form)

#who are you when nobody's watching?#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fan fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara series #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #enemies to lovers #slow burn #found family #summer writes

280 notes · View notes

aftgficrec · 3 months

Text

Literally anything and everything written by bazookajo94 - they write the funniest and most chaotic aftg fics

As you can see from the long list of their fics that we’ve previously rec’ed, we completely agree with you! - S

previously recommended:

‘stab me yourself u coward’ here

‘survive the night’ here

‘tit for tat’ here

‘definitely something’ here

‘eat the rich’ here

‘prove your love’ here

‘all that i’ve been dreaming of’ here

‘last piece of gold’ here

‘long journey home’ here

‘the prettiest blue’ here

‘dirty little secret’ series here

‘what’s yours is mine’ and ‘Crazy Rich Neil’ here

‘Go Team!’ here

‘we were together’ series here

‘most likely to commit crimes’ here

‘give or take’ here

‘cone sold stober’ here

‘spooky scary’ here

Here’s one that hasn’t appeared on our blog yet:

in another life by bazookajo94 [Rated T, 11506 words, complete, 2022]

Dear Andrew Doe,

I am not picking one of the pen pals that’s in California or whatever. I am going to write a fake name and a fake address and send this letter to a fake person. The teacher won’t let me leave until I send this to someone.

Bye

Alex

Neil Josten sent fake letters to Andrew Doe for years, thinking they disappeared into the void.

Andrew Minyard received every single one.

tw: implied/referenced torture

#rec #reader submission #neil josten/andrew minyard #au: college/university #au: no exy #theme: fluff & angst #theme: friends to lovers #theme: espistolary #theme: fluff & humour #theme: slow burn #theme: found families #theme: team bonding #theme: loneliness #tw: implied/referenced torture #hermy-stiles

109 notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Steddie Notes Part 4 (Welcome to Steve's POV)

CW//small instance that could be viewed as internalized homophobia

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

In the bottom of Steve’s closet is a Nike shoe box. It’s full of a year’s worth of torn notebook pages, paper menus, receipts, envelopes, sticky notes, notepad sheets, invoice carbon copies, discarded things from dnd, and whatever else they could find to write on.

It's this box that contains every bit of Steve’s heart.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Steve’s at the school to pick up Dustin, Mike and Lucas, but they don’t appear at 9pm on the dot like they promised. Grumbling and annoyed, Steve heads down to the drama club room.

He hears Eddie’s voice even before he walks into the room. The low baritone, all husky and threatening, sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

Steve strides into the room, ready to berate his kids for their tardiness, but he stops literally in his tracks when he sees Eddie. Eddie looming over the table, all that long curly hair framing his face; his expression uncharacteristically dangerous, his eyes flat and promising violence.

He can’t do anything but stare, mouth shocked wide. Eddie lifts his gaze, locks it on Steve. Eddie’s looking at him with such intense command, such focus, that Steve knows he’d drop to his knees for that look, give Eddie anything he asked, everything.

He wants. So hard and so fast it makes him a little nauseous.

Eddie’s gaze flicks away, while Steve reels from the striking clarity of feeling that rewrites the year of their friendship frame-by-frame.

Steve hardly listens, still trying to come to terms with his sudden realization, with how right it is, with how obvious it’s been this whole time. He remembers, after Starcourt, the way Eddie made him feel safe, cared for. The way Eddie calling him baby echoed for hours, days, weeks after.

Of course Eddie doesn’t miss Steve's distraction. He leans into Steve's space, murmuring softly, “You okay, sweetheart? Sorry we ran late. Lost track of time.”

“Just tired, I guess.," he says. And he is distinctly not okay, because Eddie is calling him sweetheart and how did it take him this long to realize how much he loves the pet names?

He tries to tell Eddie. Can’t. Too afraid of losing his friend. He keeps going out with girls; nice girls, pretty girls, but wishes that Eddie was the one sitting beside him in the movie theater, in the passenger side of his car, across from him at the restaurant.

Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Steve’s in the Wheeler’s basement, leaning against Eddie's shoulder, waiting for the kids to finish up.

“What are they talking about?” He scribbles at the edge of Eddie’s campaign notes.

Eddie scowls at the note placement, responds anyway.

“Halloween costumes.”

“Wanna dress up together, Munson?”

“No way, Harrington, I’m not dressing up as Danny Zuko for you.”

“…obviously you’re Sandy.”

Eddie makes an offended noise.

“I could do end of the movie Sandy. But face it, baby, you’re the pretty, fresh-faced innocent and I’m the bad boy.”

Steve strangles back the sound he wants to make when his brain supplies him with an image of Eddie in those black, skin-tight pants.

“I could be a bad boy.”

Before Eddie can reply, the kids start shouting, and Eddie climbs on the wobbling card table, clapping his hands for attention.

“Jesus, Eds." He grabs Eddie’s ankle to keep him stable.

“I think a trip to the pumpkin patch is in order, what say you?”

There’s a blip where the whole room stills, every single one of them, aside from Eddie, remembering rotted fields and fetid tunnels filled with Upside Down spores and demo dogs.

“Oh, yeah, we don’t go to the pumpkin patch anymore. You know, since the tunnels—”

Steve shoots Dustin the most intense silencing looks he’s ever given anyone, which is really saying something.

They’d agreed, back in July that they would never tell Eddie what really happened at the mall. Eddie is too good, too gentle, brimming with too much pure kindness for Steve to want him anywhere near the Upside Down.

Eddie cackles. “Tunnels, Henderson?”

Lucas laughs, says, “He means the maze. Don’t you remember? They set it up one time a few years ago.”

“We got really lost. Took us hours to find the exit,” Dustin adds.

“Mike cried,” Lucas says.

“Hey! I did not!”

Mike’s anger at fake crying about a made-up crisis is enough to have them all in stitches, even Eddie who doesn’t know it’s a lie.

“What about that apple orchard?” Steve suggests.

Eddie pokes him in the cheek, excited. “Ooh, yes, apple orchard!?”

✏️✏️✏️✏️

The orchard is a mad dash of fighting over wheelbarrows, shrieking sprints into the trees, Steve stressing at the kids throwing themselves across branches with zero regard for personal safety.

Eddie nearly sends him into a coronary at the ripe old age of 19 by walking down a branch like he’s doing a tightrope.

“Munson! Get your ass down from there!”

“I’m fine, Stevie! I’ve got reflexes like a cat.”

“The hell you do!�� Steve shouts as Eddie wobbles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I know you’ll always catch me,” Eddie yells back. He winks and Steve blushes about all of it.

“You’ll just get us both hurt,” he says right as Eddie shimmies easily back to the ground.

“You worry too much,” he scolds. “All this beautiful hair is going to go grey,” Eddie shuffles his fingers through the strands.

“You’re a menace,” he growls. Pushes Eddie playfully away.

They pick apples and drink cider and it’s the best time Steve’s had in a while. He kids are spread out around him, Eddie and Robin on the quest for an apple that’s perfectly red, like you could poison Snow White with it, and he’s content. Happy.

He lets himself bask in the moment, but it’s cut short by a familiar whooping yell and the crash of Eddie Munson clinging to his back.

He groans, almost loses his footing, but quickly hoists Eddie’s legs higher against his sides.

He runs and Eddie screams, giggling, and clutches his fists into the fabric of Steve’s sweater.

“Can’t believe you caught me, sweetheart,” Eddie says once Steve slows to a walk.

“I’ll always catch you, Eds,” he promises.

Eddie makes a little noise, almost like a whimper, pressing his cheek against Steve’s.

And for just a second, the barest hint of a moment in time, Steve swears he feels Eddie’s lips pressed against the sensitive skin right beneath his ear.

It’s right then that Steve knows he doesn’t just like Eddie. No, he’s positively, totally, and completely in love with him.

(Part 5)

Thank you all so much for your comments and reblogs and likes! I appreciate it more than I can say and am still so honored that so many people like this little series. Please let me know if I missed you in the tag list, and I'll make sure to get you added for future updates (I think we're looking at 3 more)!

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro @fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagecorewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr 0@yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcan @charlies-candid-corner @perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace

@somewhereatdawn @5pac3g1r7 @thequeervibes @paperbackribs @bitchysunflower @knitsforthetrail @wrenisflying @plasticcrotches @demoniccorvid @em9515 @savory-babby @loverliner @aceacebaby42 @trainchomp @anaibis @sharkruption @quickenedheartbeat @fandomcartographer

516 notes · View notes

rochellehassan · 3 months

Text

the other day i discovered that they'd made an anniversary omnibus edition of my favorite MG series ever and of course i had to grab it immediately

#deltora quest #booklr #fantasy books #i was like ten and this series gave me high fantasy and found family and a 15-book slow-burn romance and altered my brain forever

68 notes · View notes

flywolfwriting · 12 days

Text

Throw Me in the Deep End

Charlie was proud to say she was not afraid of the dark. It certainly impressed the other seven-year-olds in her class, and her parents always told her how proud they were that she had conquered that fear so young. That she was so brave for sleeping without a night light.

It was even mostly true. She could sleep in her own room, and could sneak about the manor in the middle of the night without her heart in her throat, but sometimes it still quickened, and if she looked out the windows her breath caught. She was still only seven, after all, and it was a big, scary world beyond the safety of the manor walls.

It took her time to settle into their New Orleans holiday home. She learned the creaking of the walls and the whispering of the wind, grew accustomed to the way shadows cloaked her temporary bedroom. She kept the curtains open for just that small glimmer of moonlight and buried her head under her blankets to keep from looking outside.

She didn't say anything to her parents, though, not even when her mom woke her before sunrise to take her on an early-morning walk. They drove for ages with Charlie napping in the backseat, until her mom pulled over and told her they'd arrived. Charlie hugged close to her, but put on a brave face when Lilith led her into the bayou. She protested only a little when directed to stay put for a moment, her plea cut off with a firm, "You're mommy's brave little girl, aren't you?"

Charlie wanted so badly to be so she nodded and did as asked. She watched her mother disappear into the darkness and waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting.

The song of the bayou played around Charlie and her trembling fingers clutched the hem of her shirt tightly as she tried not to imagine glowing eyes creeping closer around her, silent tears streaking her cheeks.

Finally she could take it no more and with a sob she raced back the way they'd come.

"Mommy!"

—---------------------

Alastor loved nights like this, when the shadows clung to him like cobwebs and the crescent moon offered just enough light to avoid stepping into the alligator-infested waters. He could see the glint of their eyes watching as he dumped the duffle bag and opened it. They moved closer but didn't creep onto the small finger of land he stood on. They simply waited, and when he threw the first limb into the water they struck, the still bayou turning into churning bodies fighting for meat.

Alastor threw the next piece, quietly humming as he watched them feed. This was almost the best part, second only to the moment blood welled under his fingers and his victim realized they were about to die. He kept the best cuts to himself, of course, but the gators seemed to appreciate his treats all the same.

When he finished he loaded the bag with soil before tossing it in, tucked his gloves back into his pocket, and set off with a spring in his step.

That was when he heard the sob.

Alastor froze, listening carefully. The bayou was full of strange sounds but he had learned them all, knew each creak of wood, the splash of an alligator sliding into the water, the hum of every insect. He slipped into the shadow between the trees and waited, his knife at the ready. They weren't truly deep within the bayou itself; he couldn't risk the noise of a boat. It was plausible someone had followed him.

What came next was a greater shock: a child, a little girl, stumbling into view.

No, they weren't deep, but dawn had yet to crack the sky and they weren't near any roads.

Alastor resisted a sigh and tucked his knife back into its sheath against his thigh and stepped out.

The girl let out a short scream and fled.

“Wait-” Alastor called, then took off after her. He couldn't see her anymore but he heard her footsteps, another short scream, and the expected splash as she fell into the water.

And then a more familiar kind of splash.

Next Part

#Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #RadioApple #Slow burn #ao3 #flywolf33 #flywolfwriting #my fic #please don't repost to another site #fanfic #Human au #found family #hazbin hotel rosie #serial killer Alastor #title from Deep End by I Prevail

44 notes · View notes

steddieunderdogfics · 2 months

Note

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41086575/chapters/102982446

Weakened Like Achilles, with You Always at My Heels by @hmslusitania

Incredible fic. Drives me crazy. 11/10.

Weakened Like Achilles, with You Always at My Heels by HMSLusitania

@hmslusitania

Rating: Mature

53,969 words, 9/9 chapters

Archive Warning: Chose Not to Use

Tags: canon complicit, Slowburn Fix-it, slowburn romance, Flashbacks, Questionable Coping Mechanisms, Steve Harrington is Dustin Henderson's Brother, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Sibling Relationship, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, Found Family, Hallucinations, Undead Eddie Munson, Vampire Eddie Munson (sort of), High School Reunions, Angst with a Happy Ending, everyone is very traumatised, Disabled Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Some poor mental health, Ghost Eddie Munson (sort of), Survivor Guilt, past steve/nancy, Fall in love with the thing that’s haunting you

Summary:

The graduating classes of 1985 and 1986 invite YOU back to West Hawkins! Welcome reception Friday, May 24th at 7:30pm. School and town tour to follow on Saturday morning. Memorial service Sunday. * If you are a graduate of the class of 1985 and need driving directions to West Hawkins, please RSVP * Due to current government restrictions, we are not currently able to offer a site visit to the Hawkins Exclusion Zone -- Steve Harrington goes home for his ten (well, eleven) year reunion with a nagging secret that's slowly ruining his life. In the ten years between, he finds the family he always wanted and, unfortunately, the person he wanted to share it with.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #canon compliant #rated m #angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fix it #found family #vampire eddie munson

34 notes · View notes

peupeugunn · 1 year

Text

i could not have been the only one that was. extremely disturbed and horrified when i was a kid and was reading the part in point blanc when alex finds out he was drugged and every inch of his body was photographed and studied. and in the show, alex went through the gemini files, saw those pictures and came to the realisation that THAT'S what that terrible fucked up nightmare he had on his first(?) night was. and reading that? seeing that? it was like, wow, this was meant to be a YA series?

#seriously i want a fic that's just about the point blanc kids healing and coming to terms with what they went through #cause three of them are now orphaned (four if you count alex)#six of them were tortured by stellenbitch and the clones who knows how many times #and becoming a found family #its just #everything was so fucked up #where's my slow burn found family fic?#do i have to write it myself #cause i might #alex rider #point blanc #alex rider tv

183 notes · View notes

plague-of-insomnia · 2 months

Text

In/Exhale: Season 2: Now Complete on AO3!

Season Two has now joined Season One on AO3 as a complete work!

I’ll begin posting Season 3 soon, and I’ve also got a summary of Season 2, in case it’s been a while since you read it or you want to jump straight into S3 (which is the best season imo).

Rating: E | Words: 170,889 | Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Coming of Age, Drama

Summary: Kai, Renee, Jon, and Vicky’s stories continue to unfold in the second season on In/Exhale.

Set in a small town in Iowa, follow our various heroes as they navigate life, love, illness, and family.

#original fiction #original work #in/exhale #ao3 #poi writes #completed work #romance #coming of age #slice of life #melodrama #whump #hurt/comfort #slow burn #ensemble cast #found family

28 notes · View notes

janedoeswriting · 2 months

Text

The Way The Wind Blows (Stiles x OC)

CHAPTER ONE

Description: Rhiannon finds herself trapped within her guilty pleasure tv show— Teen Wolf. Now, she must choose which path to take… one that leads back home, and another that follows uncertain adventure.

Tags: extreme slow burn, frienemies to lovers, fix it fic, canon change, actions have consequences.

TW: smut??, angst, fluff, sexual harassment, anxiety, depression, obsession, domestic violence, manipulation, etc. Just please do not read if you are sensitive to difficult subjects.

youtube

(Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd)

Rhiannon tried not to look at the clock. The time grew ever closer to midnight without sympathy. The television lit up the room in flashes of light.

Familiar characters spoke. Their voices were the only sound, other than Rhiannon’s sigh. She had school in the morning. Binge watching Teen Wolf wasn’t exactly a good idea. If she didn’t go to sleep soon, she’d be screwed. But these days, watching an old favorite TV show was the only thing keeping her mind distracted.

Wind outside rattled the window. A storm was on its way in. The wind wasn’t uncommon in a place like Florida. A tropical storm warning had been issued earlier that afternoon. Rhiannon checked the clock. 12:05 am. She pursed her lips and continued to watch the screen.

Gradually, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Her body sunk deeper within her cozy bed. Her cat’s purring and warmth lulled her like a lullaby. The television continued to play as Rhiannon’s breathing slowed and she fell into sleep.

A crack of thunder so loud it shook the house caused Rhiannon to jump. Her heart raced, and the lights in the street went out. Rhiannon looked to the TV only to find it had shut off, along with all the other lights in the house. Her cat scurried underneath the bed.

Rhiannon groaned and fell back into the sheets. A strange feeling washed over her— as if she had just woken up from a really good dream. One that she couldn’t remember.

Almost as quickly as Rhiannon thought it, the street lamps flickered back on. The tv lit up too, but instead of the home screen or Teen Wolf, a static screen lit up her room. Rhiannon sighed. The buzzing noise was incessant. She got up and approached the screen.

A strange humming sound behind the static noise caused Rhiannon to slow her approach. Her eyebrows furrowed and she hesitated. The humming was getting louder— like the deep guttural voice of an animal. But it was methodical. Almost as if the voice was singing. Her cat hissed from under the bed.

Rhiannon stepped forward and stretched her hand to the screenHer body moved in a trance, and something like an anchor tied to a line pulled at her gut. All she knew is that she had to touch it.

Her fingers pressed against the warm screen. She was zapped by static electricity, and jumped back. That was the last thing Rhiannon remembered before she woke up.

Before everything she had ever known turned upside down.

—

Stiles was growing more and more frustrated with Scott's blatant disregard for what was right in front of them.

"I'm telling you, Scott. That's not normal."

The blue jeep flew down the road. The fresh rainfall slickened the pavement and reflected the lights illuminating the road. The sound of the tires whsshed down the street.

"Deer don't just run into windshields. Especially when the car isn't even moving," Stiles continued. Scott nodded, but Stiles could tell his best friend's mind was elsewhere.

"Stiles, it was clearly confused. Maybe it was sick." Scott said as he looked out the passenger window. Scott was still upset that his tattoo, which he'd painfully sat two hours for and spent money on, had healed. He held his arm with the ghost of the feeling that it was still there.

But mostly, it had to do with a girl.

"Or maybe it was terrified, huh? Did you think of that?" Scott didn't even try to disguise his lack of interest. "Did you see the way Allison looked at me. Did she look like... Did she look like she missed me?" Scott asked hopefully.

He was still rocked by Allison and Lydia's sudden appearance out of nowhere, and then the events that followed. A deer crashing through the girls' windshield. Mr. Argent and Mrs. Martin rushing to the scene with worry. A deputy showing up and taking a report, and a tow truck carrying Lydia's car off. Scott recalled Allison's face gazing at him from the passenger seat as Mr. Argent pulled away.

It was a look of sorrow. And maybe even pity.

He rubbed his arm again. "No, Scott. I was a little busy thinking about the giant deer that killed itself on Lydia's car." Stiles said sarcastically. Scott sent him an exasperated look. "It didn't kill itself."

"It could have." Stiles murmured, shifting in the seat as his mind whirred. Driving usually always helped calm his mind, but after that night's events it only seemed to make his ADHD worse.

They drove down the familiar road. Stiles' eyes instinctively caught on the nature preserve sign and road leading to it. Nine months before, Stiles had parked there, and the two of them had stumbled into the forest. That night changed their lives forever. Whenever Stiles drove by it now, he couldn't help but turn and look.

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed. Stiles' head snapped forward and he swerved. In a blur, they narrowly missed hitting someone standing in the middle of the road. Someone who had come out of the woods. Stiles slammed on his breaks and they spun to a stop. The jeep's headlights shown on the figure before them. It was a girl. She was tall and thin. And completely naked. Her body was covered in dirt and mud and leaves. Her brown hair was matted around her head in a wild tangle with small twigs and leaves poking out. She was shaking profusely.

For a long moment, Scott and Stiles stared at the girl in shock. They turned to each other at the same time and made surprised eye contact and then turned back. Her head rose, and cobalt eyes squinted in the light. One of her hands blocked her privates, and the other arm concealed her breasts from view.

Stiles fumbled for the door handle and his seatbelt, and ended up falling out of the jeep. Scott followed in suit, but much more gracefully. By the time Stiles had gotten on his two feet, Scott was already digging around Stiles' trunk for something.

Stiles stepped forward cautiously. The girl didn't flinch or step away. She turned her face away from the light and looked at him.

"Hey.... Are you okay?" Stiles said softly, doing a great job of maintaining eye contact without slipping to the distraction of a totally naked girl in front of his face.

"D-.....," the girl started. "Dylan O'Brien?"

Stiles blinked at her and shook his head with furrowed brows. Finally, Scott came up behind with a blanket. "Here." Scott said gently and wrapped the blanket around the girl. She quickly slipped it around her body, holding the large wool blanket tightly around herself. Stiles noticed that she was shaking like a leaf. The grey blanket only seemed to make her blue/grey eyes even brighter.

"You're.. Tyler Posey," she said, and silence stretched before she asked, "Am I being pranked?"

As soon as the words left her lips Rhiannon realized how silly that sounded. What kind of a prank would get her stripped down naked and leave her in the woods, only to be rescued by two famous actors?

"No, I'm sorry," Scott said slowly. "My name is Scott, and this is Stiles."

There was another long moment of silence in which the boys watched her in confusion. Scott looked to Stiles and without speaking, Stiles stepped away to the jeep. He turned on the radio and called through the scanner into the police station. "We need an ambulance to the entrance of the nature preserve, now."

Stiles turned it off before he could hear his father on the other end saying "Stiles, get off the radio." But no sooner did he say that did Sheriff Stilinski bark orders and run out to his cruiser with his jacket in hand.

Rhiannon couldn't help but scoff at him in disbelief. "Scott? Like Scott McCall? Now I know I'm being pranked. Where're the cameras?" She said while turning about to look for wherever the hidden cameras were. This was one hell of a prank to put her naked in front of two of her celebrity crushes.

"This- This isn't a prank." Stiles said in confusion, but Scott held up his hand to signal for Stiles' caution and silence.

"Where did you come from?" Scott asked gently. He could hear her heartbeat racing. "What's your name?"

Rhiannon was still looking around for cameras. She did a 360 degree rotation, but came up blank. "Come on, the gigs up. This was very funny," she said, adding a laugh at the end. She'd kill whoever's idea this 'prank' was. The boy's concerned faces only turned her laugh sour in her throat.

"Okay, okay you guys are good actors. I get it..."

But the looks on the boy's faces were only getting more and more serious. Rhiannon was beginning to grow frustrated and even more confused than she already was. "Okay, this isn't funny anymore. Where am I? Why did I wake up in the woods?" She said, trying not to lose her cool in front of them. But tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

"We're in Beacon Hills. It's going to be okay, an ambulance is on it's way." Scott said soothingly.

Sure enough, sirens sounded in the distance-- growing closer and closer. "Do you remember your name?" Stiles asked, stepping forward. But Rhiannon stepped back as her body ran hot in a flash. Her face flushed red and she barked, "And, what? I'm supposed to believe you're Stiles Stilinski? This isn't funny! Please stop."

Scott and Stiles looked at each other in confusion.

"You know what? Give me my phone! I'm calling my mom." She demanded. "We don't have your phone..." Scott said and tried to step forward like she was a rabid animal needing taming.

"Stop!" She exclaimed. Scott froze in place.

Stiles sucked in a breath heavily and stepped forward. "Listen-- everything is going to be okay. I know you're confused right now. So are we. You can use my phone to call your mom as soon as the ambulance arrives." The sirens couldn't have been more than a block down the road now. Rhiannon met Stiles' eyes and breathed in slowly, calming herself down. "Fine." She said.

"Can you tell us your name? We just want to help." Stiles said.

Rhiannon hesitated, but ultimately told him. "Rhiannon. Like the Fleetwood Mac song. But everyone just calls me Rhi."

"Rhi. Alright, It's nice to meet you Rhi. I'm Stiles." Stiles said, cracking a slight smile. Finally, the ambulance pulled up in front of them, flanked by two cop cars.

Paramedics and Sheriff Stilinski rushed forward. Scott pulled away and spoke to his father. He seemed to be trying to be quiet, but Rhiannon could hear them. The paramedics approached the girl with rehearsed scripts meant to calm and protect, but she secretly kept her attention on their conversation.

"We found her just- standing. In the middle of the road. I think she came from the woods. She's disoriented, and maybe in shock."

"Alright. Leave the diagnosis to the doctors. We need to figure out what's going on." Sheriff Stilinski said, and turned to his son and the strange girl wearing only a blanket. The other deputy approached and pulled Scott to the side for a quick statement of what had happened.

"This is my dad. He's--," Stiles started. He spoke to her like she was a china cup teetering on the edge of a table. Rhiannon cut him off. "Sheriff Stilinski."

"Hi... I don't know if we've met--," he started. Rhiannon shook her head. "We haven't."

He pursed his lips and nodded. The paramedics approached. The doors of the ambulance were open. They carried a reflective hypothermic blanket with them. Rhiannon nodded and walked towards them, understanding that she needed immediate physical exams.

As Rhiannon answered all the paramedics questions and followed instruction to sit down in the ambulance, she met Stiles' eyes as he spoke urgently to his father. A moment passed as their eyes locked. It broke after a few seconds when the ambulance doors shut and they began their exam and the ambulance pulled away.

Thirty minutes after the ambulance left the scene, Stiles drove down Scott's street. He was back to rambling at a million miles a minute. This time, Scott couldn't disagree much with the claims that there was something going on.

"We need to go to the hospital and ask her questions tomorrow. Figure out what happened." Stiles said.

"No, we need to leave her alone. She was probably lost or hurt. Maybe she hit her head, or sleep walked, or escaped Eichen House," said Scott. "She knows something, Scott."

"What makes you think that?" Scott responded. "Because, she knew my last name. Which I never told her. And she knew my dad, who she's never met." Stiles said. "Your dad is the sheriff, and your the sheriff's son." "And how did she know your last name?" Stiles retorted. "I don't know....," But as Scott struggled to come up with a retort he realized he didn't have. How did she know who he was? "She called us both by different names when she first saw us. She probably mistook us for other people." Scott said.

"Well we definitely aren't whoever Tyler and Dylan are. But she recognized who we were. She knew our names. Almost like she remembered us." Stiles said, passionately recalling that look in her eyes.

Scott didn't know what exactly to say to Stiles. "Listen, we can read her statement after your dad gets one from her. Let's start there before we go around harassing my mom's patients."

"How would you know if she's one of your mom's patients?" Stiles asked.

"Knowing this town, she would be." Scott said. Stiles inclined his head with resigned concurrence.

Rhiannon's head was throbbing. The entire situation had so thoroughly exhausted her she didn't even know her left from her right. Her mind whirred just as much as the world around her was. Bustling paramedics and an ENT, police officers, doctors. When Rhiannon was finally given a clean hospital gown and told to shower, she thought she would collapse.

The water quickly turned hot. The closed door and noise of the water crashing against the tile opened something within her that had been temporarily shut. A sob ripped through her chest like she hadn't done in weeks.

She stepped under the water and the sobs kept coming. The tearing pain in her chest, the way her throat contracted as she struggled to breath. They must have heard her because a knock sounded at the door. "I'm fine!" Rhiannon shouted. She wouldn't have been able to get the words out if she hadn't been so desperate to be alone. She silently continued, sitting down on the tile floor of the shower and wrapping her arms around her knees. She must have been there a while because a soft knock sounded and Rhiannon jumped.

She realized she was almost falling asleep, staring at the water flowing down the drain in the numb aftershock of her crying.

"Are you okay in there?" The kind voice asked. Rhiannon opened her mouth. Her voice felt distant and strange-- like it wasn't her own. "Yes... Just a few more minutes!" Rhi called back. She uncurled from her position and stood on creaky legs. She took the soap and lathered her body, scrubbing off any evidence of dirt or smell from the forest. A chill went down her spine, and for a moment she was there again. Calling for help with no hero in sight. The full moon illuminating the forest through the leaves. Shadows lurking between the trees--carrying unknown predators. In the distance, a stretch of flat wood covered in moss.

Rhiannon scrubbed harder. Then, she scrubbed her scalp. She pulled the twigs and leaves from her hair. Used the conditioner and her fingers to gradually detangle the knots. Until all she could smell was body wash and cheap shampoo and conditioner. A small collection of twigs and leaves were caught at the drain, but the water ran clear.

When Rhiannon put on the blue gown and looked into the mirror she wondered if she were in a dream. She looked down and counted her fingers- five on each hand- and then scoffed to herself. She'd learned that from Teen Wolf-- having extra fingers means you're in a dream. This wasn't Teen Wolf. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Either that or Rhiannon was going out of her mind.

She stepped out of the bathroom to a warm-looking hospital room. It was quiet and clean. A lamp illuminated the space from the side table. The door opened and a nurse walked inside. She was tan-skinned and had brown hair and large brown eyes. And Rhi recognized her. This time, Rhi swallowed and didn't say anything. The woman approached her with kind eyes and a soft motherly smile. "Hello. You feelin' warmed up?" She asked.

Rhiannon nodded and just stared at the woman. It was strange to see her. To be here. A memory from earlier flashed before her mind. As she was being ushered into the emergency room the sign of the hospital read 'Beacon Hills Memorial'. The police officers who flashed in and out of her vision had badges that said 'Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department'. Mr. Stilinski's face flashed before her eyes as well. Rhiannon thought she was remembering that too, but it really was Mr. Stilinski at the threshold of the door. More people, an FBI agent and a doctor, stood at the door with him.

Rhiannon turned to the woman. "Ms. McCall," she said. The woman looked somewhat surprised but nodded expectantly. Rhiannon continued. "I have to answer their questions don't I?"

Ms. McCall smiled and nodded, but her expression was now one of empathy. "Yes, I'm afraid you do. They'll keep it fast," She added with a pointed look at the sheriff. Ms. McCall guided Rhi to the bed and helped her in with gentle hands. "Can I get you some water?" She asked.

Rhi nodded and smiled with grateful eyes. The doctors had already examined her thoroughly when Rhi got there. It was a blur, and she had been covered in dirt. They tested her vitals and for signs of hypothermia. She came out of it unscailthed, but was told she would be given an IV after her shower.

Mrs. McCall gave her a glass of water and she sipped it while the woman worked, and while the police and doctor asked her questions.

What was her name?

"Rhiannon Penelope Watson."

How old was she?

"I'm fifteen. I turn sixteen on August 18th."

Mrs. McCall looked up, and made eye contact with the Sheriff. They continued with the questions.

What year were you born?

Rhi hesitated. For the first time, Rhiannon realized that maybe she should lie. If this was just a dream, then it wouldn't matter anyway. That instinct ran through her in a jolt. "I--..." She hesitated, but continued. "I don't know. I can't remember."

The police paused and the doctor scribbled fervent notes. They continued.

Do you remember your parents' names?

Rhiannon hesitated again. "No.... I know them. I can't-- I-I-I can't--," but the doctor interrupted her faux struggle. Rhiannon very well knew her parents names. But the realization that they might not be here... Tears even pricked at her eyes, but those may have been real. The Sheriff spoke. "It's alright. You're going to be okay, Rhiannon. We're going to help you."

And it sounded a lot like Stiles. The boy's voice and face flashed in her memory. It all felt so real. This felt so real. She looked down at her arm, where Melissa had finished preparing the IV. "Relax your arm. You may feel a slight prick but only for a moment." Melissa's hands were steady, but Rhi could feel her pity almost palpable in the air.

Weren't you supposed to wake up when you pinched yourself? The sharp stab of the needle certainly felt worse than a pinch.

What is the last thing you do remember?

So she wasn't dreaming. Rhiannon recalled that in order to stick to a lie, one must tell as much of the truth as possible. And if she was having some sort of mental breakdown or an onset of schizophrenia, then she should probably start telling the truth. "I remember waking up. On a big tree trunk. I didn't have any clothes. I started calling out but nobody was there. I don't know how long I was walking around for, but I saw a flash of light. I followed it. It was so cold. I realized I was in the street when your son almost ran me over," Rhiannon said, gesturing to Mr. Stilinski, who grimaced.

"He and Scott were there. They told me it was going to be okay... But it's not okay. I'm crazy, aren't I?" She said

The crushing weight of it hit her shoulders. She was crazy. Melissa, who had finished with the IV, reached for Rhi's hand. A lump in Rhi's throat caught and a tear escaped onto her cheek. Melissa turned, concern etched over her face.

"Can I be alone with Ms. McCall?" Rhi asked. They turned to her in surprise.

Mr. Stilinski nodded and said, "Of course." The FBI agent seemed to begrudgingly leave, and the doctor said, "We can finish questions in the morning."

Finally, the door shut behind them. Rhiannon wiped her tear quickly and looked down at their intertwined hands. Mrs. McCall pulled a chair forward and sat. Rhiannon met her intense gaze.

"Mrs. McCall. I've been thinking... I don't really-- I don't really know when I am."

Melissa's confusion and pity rose, and it showed on her face. Rhiannon squeezed her hand. "Tell me-- What grade is Scott in?" Melissa's brows furrowed and head shrunk back in surprise.

"My son? Honey--," she started, but Rhiannon interrupted.

"Please." And Rhiannon was sincere. Her eyes pleaded, and she waited in desperation for Melissa's answer.

"A-.. He's an incoming junior." Melissa said.

Rhiannon looked down, mind racing at the information. What did that mean? If he was a rising junior then Melissa knew about the supernatural. This was-- Rhiannon counted in her mind-- season three, then. Maybe even before season three, because if Rhiannon's memory served her correctly, Scott had no tattoo on his arm. Just great. Melissa saw the expression on Rhiannon's face. "Rhiannon, are you okay?" Rhi nodded, and looked up when another realization struck her. "That means you know. You know... about Scott....About what he is. That he's a werewolf."

Melissa drew back, letting go of Rhiannon's hand now. There was a moment of silence and appraisal, "Who are you?" Melissa wasn't exactly defensive, but she was bordering on it.

"Listen to me. Please-- I need your help. I'm not from here." Rhiannon said, her mind still whirring but her energy rising. Melissa's head slightly shook. "Beacon Hills?" she asked in bewilderment.

"No. Well, yes, but no. I'm from a different world."

Rhiannon drew up. "I need to get back home." --

Stiles didn't manage to miss his father's thwack upside the head. "What in the world were you doing? Driving around at night almost running over traumatized young girls?!"

The anger in Mr. Stilinski's voice was palpable. Stiles exasperatedly said, "Well I didn't know she would be coming out of the woods into the middle of the road!" The hospital hallway was practically empty now that the FBI agent went home for the night and the doctor disappeared down the hallway with physicians assistants and nurses in tow.

Mr. Stilinski still pointedly made a face at Stiles to keep his voice down. Stiles hushidly said, "Is she okay?" The worry on his face wasn't concealable. Mr. Stilinski pursed his lips and nodded, that look of pity returning to his eyes.

"She's going to be fine. Woke up in the woods. Doesn't remember her parents, or when she was born. It might be hard tracing this back to wherever she came from." Stiles found himself looking to the door of the room as his father spoke.

"She was probably walking for miles alone with the state she was in when you boys found her. We gave her the night to rest." He said. Stiles turned back to his father, who was beginning to walk down the hallway. "Where's Melissa, then?" he asked. "She asked for her to stay."

Stiles walked along with long, boustrous strides to catch up with his father. His exasperation was palpable in his tone of voice when he asked, "Why?"

"I don't know. And it's none of your business." Mr. Stilinski said in a firm tone that said he knew Stiles was up to no good poking around where he didn't belong (this was a common tone used in regards to Stiles).

"Leave the poor thing alone to get some rest. And leave the investigation to us." Mr. Stilinski added. "Investigation?" Stiles asked with piqued interest. "Into who she is. She can't remember her family, or the year she was born. She has no clue where she's from or how she woke up on a stump in the middle of the woods."

"A stump?" Stiles asked. Sitles faltered in mental scrutiny. "Know anything about that?" Mr. Stilinski asked, knowing his son's antics in the woods.

"No." Stiles said, and he was telling the truth. He'd never seen a stump in the woods. And Stiles had certainly seen a lot of the woods of Beacon Hills. A memory struck him. "Dad. She's probably from Beacon Hills."

"And what makes you think that, other than the fact that she was roaming around the woods at night?" "She knew your name before I told her. It's probably like muscle memory or something, you know?"

"I've never met her." Mr. Stilinski said, as if Stiles was being absurd.

"You're the Sheriff, dad. She probably just remembers your name from the news or something."

"Right... Maybe that means she can regain her memory back eventually...," said the Sheriff trailing off in thought. There was a long stretch of silence between them, and the Sheriff stopped and looked at his son.

"Hey. Don't you have school tomorrow? You should be in bed right now."

Stiles grimaced at his father's recollection. "I was worried." Stiles admitted.

"How many times have I told you that you don't have to worry about me?"

"I wasn't worried about you."

"Oh, about the girl you almost ran over?" Stiles rolled his head back in annoyance. "It was an accident. And I didn't hit her!"

Melissa rushed out of Rhiannon's hospital room and the door slammed shut behind her. The hallway was bustling with people and sirens sounded from outside. Rhiannon watched from her bed as an emergency sucked Ms. McCall into action.

Before Rhi could even get a word out edgewise about getting help, a code had sounded and the bustle of an imminent emergency tore Mrs. McCall away. Her mind was buzzing, and all she wanted to do was sleep, but Rhiannon stood with the IV stand in hand and walked over to the hallway window. She used her finger to peak out through the blinds at the scene. She'd looked out just in time to watch as two stretchers were rushed down the hall. Melissa was speaking to someone-- who Rhiannon immediately recognized through the bustle as a bloody, disoriented Isaac Lahey. Right behind them, a dark skinned girl bleeding profusely exclaimed in pain. Braeden. They were both blurs as they approached Rhiannon's room.

Rhiannon retreated instantly. The blinds snapped back into place and she stumbled back to sit on the edge of the hospital bed as the crowd passed, screams of pain and medical orders sounding with it. Rhiannon's mind raced.

Blood, sweat, and pain lingered in the hallway. She recalled this moment. It was from the first episode of the third season. Rhiannon thought she was going to be sick. And then, she was. Right there on the linoleum floor, she vomited. The chaos in the hall was too loud for anyone to hear. Rhiannon rushed to the sink as fast she could with an IV drip in tow. She vomited again into the sink. After a few moments of retching and swallowing her own flem and spit, Rhiannon leaned back against the wall of the bathroom. She looked up at the ceiling with tears streaming down her face and a ragged breath.

Rhiannon wasn't cut out for this.

The pain was too real to be a dream.

It was too intricate to be a prank.

A television flashed before her mind. Static screen. A humming voice.

She shot up and made eye contact with her reflection. The TV had been acting strange, and she'd touched it. And woke up here. Rhiannon played with the possibility of the impossible. I mean, sure, she'd daydreamed about falling into the worlds of her favorite books or movies or shows. But those were just daydreams. Wild fantasies to distract from her daily life. They weren't real.

Something surfaced in her mind. A tunnel. Like sliding down a glowing water slide face first into a bright white light. Rhiannon gasped. Finally, she played with the idea. The idea that: What if this was real? What if somehow, by some sick crazy miracle, she had fallen into the world of her favorite TV show. She stepped out of the bathroom and peaked out. The hallway was beginning to calm down. She whirled back. Her mind seemed to turn on, now. Like a bulb that had been on dim turned all the way up. Every possibility shot within her brain, back and forth. If this was real, and she was really inside Teen Wolf, then she was doomed. The dread that struck her felt like a blow to the stomach.

She whispered the horrific reality aloud, "I'm gonna die."

===

NOTES: Thanks for reading! Any questions or recommendations? Feel free to ask! As I finish more chapters I'll link the chapters all together and make a masterlist. I'm also thinking of including a playlist with my inspo for the story/characters on the masterist for those interested. This chapter was kind of slow but it'll be paced similarly to the show with some gaps and changes in plot.

PART TWO

42 notes · View notes