Wadecalhoun​:

wadecalhoun​:

          “Bit of a gut punch,” he offers Robin a sour expression for if she’s too paint him as a complete evildoer, the Archer is not about to exhaust himself fighting against such imagery. He’d thrived off of fear and anger, it led him to this pivotal moment of their friendship where now they were mere strangers once more, torn apart by violence spurred by hatred and confusion. “You must think I’m doin’ way more than working for them. I don’t have any clearance into those labs,” it’s a half-whisper considering she’s jumping right in when they’re on the line for coffee, but he’ll settle for duking it out with her as he waited.

“You know, that does it make me feel a bit better for trusting you for so long,” she muses thoughtfully as she settles by his side to wait for the line to move. It is almost amusing to hear him struggle to half-whisper, not realizing that she had thrown a privacy spell around the two as soon as she had stepped closer. Robin wasn’t careless, for fuck’s sake. She knew the meaning of subtlety, but she also was petty and vindictive, and worrying Wade just a little bit was far too amusing for her right now. “The fact that you do have morals, I mean. Makes it easier to believe you are just incapable to withstanding peer pressure, and not willingly malicious,” she comments carelessly before rising a brow. “The labs are not the only suspect thing of the whole organization and you know it.”

"Would you believe if I say that my current courage is thanks to your actions?" Robin coos almost playfully, eyes cold and death as she faces the human she had once trusted and taught but had done nothing but betray her since the moment they met. There is no denying that she had been a naive fool, far too fascinated with humanity to see the vipers hidden beneath the shape forged by Prometheus to look just like them. The once perfect vessel to the gods, reduced to cockroaches at Eden's fall. They could not kill them all, but there was no need to. As enterprising and creative as humanity could be, their deaths were as easy as plucking one heart string and watch their entire circulatory system collapse as a result. Perhaps there was good amidst their kind, but Wade had always been a hypocrite, willing to put the blinders on and ignore reality just to adhere to his stubbornly idiotic viewpoints. Perhaps humanity as a whole was rotten, and there were individuals that were good, but no matter how many delusions Wade filled his head with, the truth was simple: he had long since lost the right to call himself a good man. All that was left of the young man she had once helped trained had suffered a slow suffocating death since he reached Rome, and died as his knife sunk on her side. "I must thank you really, if weren't for your betrayal, I wouldn't have gotten the idea of my Autumn Boon. Did you not like it? I made it specially for you, so that you knew what it felt to have a dear friend stab you in the back."

who? @wadecalhoun where? killjoy's notes: doing the randomize top songs thing and got i shot cupid by stela cole

"Oh, dear. Are you alright, Wade?" Robin wonders mockingly as she sits next to him at Killjoy's bar and sends him a faux concerned looked as she takes him in slowly. There is something different about the human, danger blaring on her sense as she sits next to him, but she does not knot it comes from her boldness at entering a hunter friendly establishment or something more. Regardless, she has paid precautions, having mentioned of her desire to purview the establishment to one of the vampire marshals and Davheira, and with the new laws, she doubts any hunter would risk to attack her all too openly. And if they choose to do it in the dark? She will be ready and grinning, knowing they took the bait. " You look a little yeasty, as if you had just battled a fungal infection."

alekgray​:

-

Fey and their fucking tricks. Bound through deals and contracts, that just sounded great. Useful, maybe, but that didn’t mean Alek had to like it. “I wouldn’t be surprised, they’re all over, aren’t they?” The lycan stated simplistically, considering their tech and their guns and their equipment it stood to reason that they had to be getting their materials from elsewhere. Manufacturing probably happened elsewhere too, for all their flexing of power Alek had to wonder how much of their development was being poured into it. “I’ve smelled them in there, in the Otherworld. It’s faint, but they’re there enough.” Alek had to wonder how they were getting there, but that might as well have been another fire entirely. “What are you thinking?”

...

“Like cockroaches,” she echoes the sentiment with a scowl. Too many laboratories, too few of her spies to count them all. The entire ordeal is beyond frustrating, but she realizes she has time. Something the lycan before her is sorely lacking, or would have been were he not rumored to be a volatile. A ruthless choice, but one well suited for a man meaning to go to war with an organization almost as old as humanity. “You have?” She had been concerned, but the confirmation of it all is even worse when it comes from someone as well acquainted with the Eye as the former experiment. “I am thinking that the best case scenario is that they have found a door into the Otherworld. The worst case? They made one. It would imply that they do not only rely on technology, but that they also have an in-depth understanding of magic beyond that which they got from stealing from Theneras.”

when? From the afternoon of the 22nd of September to the dawn of the 23rd.  where? Autumn's Fields mentions: Farenduil, Meryasek and Titania, brief mentions of Yavie, Zahrya, Prometheus trigger warnings: body horror, like babes so much of it, grief, fungi/mushrooms, decay, gore length: 4,691 words

Find the Call of What Falls Forevermore Here

Recipients of the Autumn boons:

Those who allied with the Fairy Throne, you know who you are

Farenduil

Hayliel

Emma Wright

Faiman

Demigods

wadecalhoun​:

          Wade had garnered apprehension over this puerile and fanatical idea the entire night it had been concocted. He’d had his own passions and desires for destroying certain species but had learned, over time from Robin, how the fey had merely wished to live unbothered by society; integrated but never harmed. Theneras’ provocation, their senseless violence against Rome had pulled the trigger and sent a frenzied outlook onto Rome. A zealous approach from hunters who hungered for blood and destruction, intent on blind chaos rather than a pragmatic approach between the blurred lines of those who inflicted harm and those who projected peace. He already flinches as Robin’s wounded visage comes into view, averts his gaze as hands grab a hold of her.

These people, the Eye, are meant to be who he swears a blind allegiance to, but his motives have never been entrenched in mindlessly following a crowd. His story was a simple one, drowned in the blood of innocents, his lifestyle a collateral of the pain inflicted upon him. His family was murdered by a demon, destroyed from the inside out and it was within his due diligence to make that pain matter. Robin had approached him so compassionately when he’d come at her blindly with a knife all those years ago. She may have laughed in his face, defended herself, but she had come to teach him the nuances of species and he had to be grateful to her that Wade had merely survived so long based on her teachings.

Before Robin, Wade had been all ire and sinew; inflicting blind rage on demons and witches; sometimes species who likely weren’t either being caught up in his destructive path. She may not have realized she had honed in his abilities, made him a more adept hunter. He used to be able to brunt the injuries, smile through the stab wounds or vampire bites, broken bones and bloodied noses. Now, he’d learned to avoid them, play into the advantages he’d learned from Robin.

Wade clears his throat as the gaggle of Eye hunters he’d surrounded himself with make a mockery of Robin, laugh in her face. “Maybe she’s right, we dunno what waits inside.“ It’s a pathetic attempt to get them to quit while they’re ahead. The Forest will not welcome strangers and they reside on the border, Robin now a victim to their senseless games. They’re hardly listening to Wade, he’s never been a commanding authority figure and Wade takes a cowardly step back, merely overwhelmed, as he hears the flick of an iron switchblade.

...

Eight paltry words. That is what years of friendship had bought her, that is what the countless times she had saved his life had bought her. Eight fucking words. Eight words he hadn’t even meant. There is no attempt to command his fellow hunters, tension on his shoulders as he prepares to help her. Nothing but eight weakly said words said before stepping back and leaving her to the mercy of a crowd of merciless hunters. Now, more than ever, she understands Zahrya’s hate for humanity, for their weak hearts and loyalties. Now, more than ever, wishes she could keep that hate on her heart, but even now it fades as she looks at Wade an all she can feel is all encompassing grief.

She had thought — She had thought they were friends, she loves him as one. Loves him enough to make him a healing artifact, loves him enough to grant him passage unto their last defense, their last asylum, loves him enough to return to him time and time again to ensure he has been safe, that he was alright. Love and loyalty given freely over the years, because she has a kind heart that only wants to give, and yet all she has gotten as repayment is what? Empty promises to help with the drows, an infiltration when her kind is near extinction and nothing but eight fucking words to try and stop the hunters he has guided into her home.

Robin’s grief is so, that she fails to hear the iron switchblade, fails to see as it is aimed as her as she keeps her betrayed stare at Wade. Fails to do anything but to double in pain as it’s used to gut her as she screams at the searing pain trailing behind the blade. She doesn’t collapse unto herself, as she wishes, doesn’t wail aside from the first scream, keeping herself locked in place as she hears the distant echo of changelings and lycans approaching to hunt for trespassers and makes the decision to give her former friend one last kindness. Eyes raising up to meet Wade as she feels her blood leave her, she gives him a grim, sardonic smile.

“Run, Red Riding Hood, before the wolves and our protectors get you for this, run,” she says, words sharp and painful, coming out as a threat to those who do not know her, but as a warning meant to reach Wade’s ears and his ears alone.

Survive so that you can leave with your choices, traitor.

yaviefey​:

-

Yavie wasn’t having nearly as much fun as he wished he was. Everyone looked nice in their costumes, maybe not as good as him, but not everyone could pull off a pumpkin like him. “Have you ever been in love, Robin?” Yavie asked, his voice a stranger as it fell through the mouthole of the pumpkin that sat on his neck.

...

“Yes,” Robin admits with a shrug, mind going back to William and Anne, and the many paramours she has had over the years. She has loved them all, in different ways, but all of them were meaningful. There has been no one true love, but there is time for that right? Beings as long-lived as them could afford the wait. “Although I don’t know if my definition of love and yours are exactly the same.”

who? @wardercloud

where? summer’s sands

“How are you doing?” She asks, once she finally finds them amidst Laer’s Summer Sands. The Pilgrim had gone above and beyond designing the Summer Court’s new refuge, but despite everything, it is a pale comparison of the home that had once belonged to them. It’s impossible to compare less than a month of work to the countless years and centuries that had been spent on the creation of the Courts. Young and old had come together to create a home, and now it is all lost to the Drow Queen’s domain. It would make her furious, it does make her furious, but she is weighted too much by the grief of betrayal for that anger to manifest. Not yet, at least. It had been the same with her brother’s death, first grief came and overwhelmed her, then anger and the desire for revenge. Her time would come, but for now, she would follow her grief and ensure those she loves are as well as possible with all the circumstances. “The last few weeks have not been easy on any of us, but they might have hit you harder.”

"Well, that does complicate things," she admits slowly, yet reluctantly, eyebrows raising until they almost reach her hair. It's a rather scandalous bit of information, frankly, and she is aware that it will draw a great deal of negative attention towards Inan. Yet, for her the matter is simpler. The warder bond it's a great means to monitor a warder and wardee, and she has sensed the worry behind his words: Inan does not mean to betray her, and until that changes, she will not treat him any different. "For you, more than anything. We are both aware that public opinion is a fickle mistress, but I will not forbid you from meeting him if you desire."

"It's my brother, he's a drow. I think he might be the Court's spymaster: Somniar." Inan had brushed against him only briefly, but the man had not been far from the warder's thoughts since. "We haven't been in contact, save for one brief altercation before the war began, but I couldn't in good conscience continue on without telling you about the association." Many elves knew drow by virtue of their life cycle, but few were connected to those who'd ascended as far as the Court.

"Exactly as in William Shakespeare," Robin says in delight at Lain's reaction. It is a true pleasure to be able to lord this bit of information over the head of someone who does not know about it. Assan is well aware of her outings, and most within the courts at least suspect of her mischief regarding that particular British copy. "You have heard of the most charming Puck, also known as Robin Goodfellow, have you not?" She asks with a smirk as she returns the kiss with an equal enthusiasm, delighted by Lain's initiative. "Me, indeed, in whatever way you desire. Your performance was rather wondrous, after all, and you surely deserve to be rewarded as you please."

He was still coming down from the high that came with live performances, red wine still dripping down his body from where Lucas had forced him to down a whole glass on stage, resulting in the death of Claudius. Lain had a huge smile on his face as Robin took him by necklace he was wearing and led him away from view.  Her kiss grounded him, the feeling that he was currently floating outside his own body fading away. “William?  As in the William Shakespeare?” Lain asked incredulously before chuckling, “I always assumed he was actually a bunch of people all writing under the same pen name.”  He leaned in to kiss her again, full of enthusiasm and lacking the self-doubting hesitation that usually proceeded his touches. “So what’s my reward? Is it you?” 

lainxsolus​:

“I’m well aware of how petty the fey can be. I got turned into a changeling during the masquerade party last year,” Time had dulled the pain he had experienced from the transformation, at least he could openly talk about it now without visibly trembling. Besides, he had survived and the ordeal had made him stronger. When he wasn’t numb to his emotions, he got a little scared. The initial opening himself up to become intimate and vulnerable with someone new was a hurdle that Lain always struggled with. It was easier being alone, but damn if it didn’t hurt like hell. “I don’t actually have fleas,” Lain replied, grinning, “I’ve been wearing my flea collar. Although if you start offering parasite removal services you might just become the most popular person in New Rome.” The lycan closed the short distance between them, lips brushing against Robin’s, his body reflexively flinching at the initial contact before he willed himself to relax against her. His lips continued to move against her’s, muscle memory coming back to him easily even after nearly a year of not kissing another person. It was not like he had not wanted to kiss someone before meeting Robin, but he always managed to talk himself out of it before he even made a move. He pressed her against the wall, hands moving down her body to firmly grip her waist. “There’s cops everywhere, how about we find somewhere more private?”

...

“Oh, you pretty thing, that wasn’t pettiness that was viciousness,” she tuts softly as she raises her hand to brush her knuckles across his cheeks tenderly. She can’t apologize, not when she would have done the same, cannot apologize for Fen’harel’s actions because at the end of the day, she is not above making changeling either. And yet, it would have been such a tragedy to lose the little puppy before they could have their fun. With their current alliance with the Lupo pack, she does not have to worry about a betrayal coming from their side, and that means that she can finally relax and have some fun. By the Seasons she had missed having fun. “Mmm,” she hums thoughtfully as she tilts her head. “I am pleased to know that, and I might even offer you the parasite removal if you are good, but I would never overstep my bounds, not when Zahrya has such a keen interest in the pack,” Robin croons playfully as she tilts her head to make it easier for the lycan to kiss her, moving carefully, as if she were treating a spooked animal. The hand brushing against his cheek slides down until it rests against his neck as she leans into the kiss, allowing him to take the lead as to not to spook him before they have their fun. Stepping back, she feels her back press against the wall and she smiles against his lips, a grin full of mischief. “I am agreeable to that compromise. Do you have any compunctions against fucking in a deserted clearing in the forest or do you prefer a bed?”