finnblackthorne

[finnblackthorne]

juliettelikethesun‌:

It felt right, moving away from the brooding man and whatever made him sit alone in a bar and drink. Juliette was not above pressing the right buttons if she thought it would lead somewhere interesting or a bit deeper, but she also wasn’t cruel, and she could almost feel the tension in the man’s shoulders, could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he maneuvered the mine-field that was his own emotional turbulence in the moment. She was also not quite in the mood to ruin her own night or the night of someone else by dragging out things that were, by all rights, none of her business.

So her little game would suffice, and when the man agreed to play along, and even came up with a fascinating story, Juliette was almost wishing that she had a pen and paper on her to take notes. It wasn’t a bad idea for a story. She might have polished up a few things, like the woman’s name, for starters. But she wouldn’t fault the man for an interesting imagination.A few tweaks, and it could be a good story. The next best-seller.

If she ever did decide to write it, she would dedicate it to her new friend from this dirt hole bar.

A grin played at the corners of her lips as she watched the couple for a moment before her eyes closed and she tried to focus in on their heartbeats. It was difficult trying to pick them out in the crowded room, the thunder of hearts pounding all around them was almost overwhelming, but she thought she might have picked them out after a few moments. 

“They were lovers once, before Ashbourne. Ended up here at different times. I think that she is relatively new to town, and he’s trying to help her get used to things. The flames are fanning, slightly, but neither of them are quite sure if they want to take that leap again.” Her eyes opened, and she offered a wry smile, head shaking a bit. “I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, I’m afraid this game always ends in some tragic romance for me. You’ll have to forgive me that fault.”

For a moment, Finn felt a giant weight lifting off his shoulders. It wasn’t gone, not by a long shot, but the weight wasn’t so unbearable. What he’d been craving when he walked into this bar, though he didn’t really know it, was distraction. Wallowing only ever made things worse, even if it felt like it was the only thing in the world to do. He smiled and tried to catch the bartender’s eye for another round, aiming to sneak a round in on him before his companion noticed.

He watched as she centered herself, getting ready to tell her side of the strangers’ story. It was romantic, with a twinge of sadness. Mari would have loved it. Mari always loved this game, actually. She was much better at it than Finn. “It’s not a weakness or anything, there’s nothing to forgive.” The last bit of beer trickled into his stomach before the bartender hastily replaced their empties. He nodded over to the couple. “Maybe their time has passed. Maybe it’s making room for something else, something better.” Even at his lowest, Finn could always find the small spark of optimism, even if it was just make-believe.

[finnblackthorne]

harlankent‌:

“I wasn’t bitten, no.” He resisted the urge to make a joke about the bedroom. This wasn’t the mood for it, and though that didn’t stop him at the best of times, he managed to use his better judgement for once. “I’m a born werewolf. I inherited it from my parents. You’ll learn a lot about some bloody snobs who think that makes ‘em better than the ones who are bitten. Nonsense, if you ask me.”

“Aw, you think I’m nice?” He said, beaming. “Sorry, not the point. 'Course they’re nice. A pack is too important for me to join one if it’s filled with wankers,” he said with a slight grin. He’d been without a pack for so long. None of them felt any good for him, too strict and controlling, contradicting with his reckless nature and free spirit. But then the Zalman pack had come along, and it had been the perfect fit. “It’s like a family.”

He’d cleaned and bandaged up Finn as best he could with his limited skills. Now the poor lad was just sitting there awkwardly in his boxers. “Clothes,” he said, nipping off to fetch him some. He came back, placing some dark jeans and a henley in Finn’s lap. “The jeans might be a bit long for you, but you can roll them up 'til we get you to the shops.”

“Werewolf...families?” Finn was incredulous. He could hardly wrap his mind around werewolves existing at all, let alone having families of them, passing the gene down and how some of those families might thing they were better than anyone else for being monsters. “Are there, ya know…’wanker’ packs here?” “It’s like a family.”

The phrase echoed around Finn’s brain while his host sped off to grab him some clothes. He has just lost his entire family, his entire future, his home. Even if he could find his way out of here, where would he even go? There was nothing to return to. The idea of a pack for his new life, whatever cursed life that may be, it was the one thread Finn felt himself grasping onto. 

“Would- could I be part of that family?” He asked weakly, already feeling the blood flooding to his cheeks. Surely there was some sort of initiation or application process or test of awesomeness. 

He crawled into the outfit Harlan tossed him, rolling up the bottoms of the jeans. He felt so out of place. The clothes were too long, the air was too stuffy, and his mind swam with questions about things that couldn’t be. Finn could feel himself fighting unconsciousness, Mari’s face swimming to the forefront of his vision. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

A Hell Of A Bite || Harlan & Finn

[finnblackthorne]

fmalice‌:

Why didn’t this asshole hear that insufferable dripping? Oh well, not here or there. He just wanted to get inside and see the potential damage. It wouldn’t hurt to do a quick look to see around his neighbour’s apartment either. However, he knew his stare could be explained as quizzical at best at the other man. He found it quite hard to believe himself, but then again it was rather quiet in his apartment to begin with.  Maybe it was just his apartment to begin with. He let out a breath of relief once Finn invited him in. He did like when people invited him into places, but he also liked to stalk them and just happen to have a copy of peoples’ keys.

Fergus’s eyebrows almost merged into a unibrow as he surveyed Finn’s home. Did this dude know how to use a cleaner? A file cabinet maybe? Rude questions that he didn’t feel like asking this minute. Instead he let out a whistle as he glanced around at the mess. He steps towards their joined wall and turned towards Finn. “Mmm Not too long, but it sounded like a fookin’ waterfall roaring in my apartment.” As he leaned his head toward the wall he paused again to glance to Finn.

“Got a hammer? Monkey wrench? Ahh do nay suppose ye have some plaster or spare pipe? Sheet or garbage bag, and a bucket,,..” Fergus just started to rattle off the stuff off the top of his head. Then pressed his ear closer to the wall. He was sure that Finn had all this readily available since he assumed the man was a goddamn hoarder. 

“Oi aye, I can hear it.” On second thought he probably shouldn’t have his face too close to the wall. Sure Enough he leaned a bit too hard against the wall and his head went right through it. The water spraying into his face as he flailed around and turned his head away to cough up the water. “Oi! bloody. fookin’ hell.”

Finn ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to pay more attention to the present and the fact that he had company. His eyes did a quick sweep of the apartment and his stomach twinged. Had it really been that long since he’d cleaned? There was a tower of pizza boxes threatening to topple over and there were jackets and socks littering the ground. Shit. Definitely not a place he’d bring company over to if he’d been given a choice. 

“Huh,” he grunted, letting his oversensitive hearing kick in. Normally he tried to tune it out, there was always so much noise around here. He of course always listened for the familiar heartbeats and cadences of the people he loved, but there was only so much he could pay attention to. Sure enough, as his neighbor went over to inspect the wall, he made out the faint dripping. “Maybe the pipe’s just closer to your side,” he offered before heading towards the other room for the laundry list of supplies he was asking for. 

As soon as he left the room, Finn heard a loud crash, rushing water, and a very irritated Fergus. He came rushing back into the room, wrench in one hand and a bucket of plaster in the other, to see his living room filling up with water and a very irate and drenched looking Fergus. “What the fu-” Who the hell did this guy think he was?! Did he just walk into people’s houses and start busting walls open? 

“Hold up, lemme get in there,” Finn pushed past his neighbor, shielding his eyes from the spray with one hand and poking around in the hole with the other, listening for the metallic clanks of the wrench against pipe. “What were you tryin’ to do, by the way?” He didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 

[finnblackthorne]

penxramos‌:

She was glad she wasn’t alone in the sentiment. Mayhem and chaos didn’t have a schedule it adhered to. Instead, it disrupted the lives of the helpful whenever it saw fit. Pen didn’t mind that much. It wasn’t as if she had a family to return home to. Only a dog that was thoroughly spoiled with daily visits from a dog walker and an open invitation for cuddling when she returned home from a trying day. She barely managed to catch the power bar when he threw it to her, managing to clasp it in her hand at the last second. “Thanks?” The witch replied, a smirk on her face. “Its better than hospital cafeteria food, at the very least.” She ripped it open and took a large satisfying bite, following behind Finn as he traipsed the woods.

“Well, that’s comforting.” She retorted, her eyes darting over the forest for any movement. She wasn’t a tracker by any means, her expertise lay in medicine and witchcraft and intertwining the two whenever she could. Confused and scared. Those two words were almost like a jump start for her, propelling her into action and racing thoughts of worst-case scenarios. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and let out a quick, determined breath.  Positive thoughts, Pen. She thought to herself, dragging her eyes over to Finn in worry. “We better get a move on then. Not to… “bloodhound” you, but can you catch a scent? If they’re a werewolf and the blood loss is steady, they can last a while but sooner or later…”

Pen frowned and reached forward to take the small bit of fur from Finn’s fingers. “No, never.” She murmured, turning it over in her hand. Thoughts raced through her head, journals, and books she had read in the compound’s library on magical creatures- werewolves especially. She couldn’t place Finn’s findings with any knowledge that she had and that worried her more than she thought it would. “So either we’re dealing with a particular kind of werewolf or… Something else entirely.”

“I’m trying, but there’s a lot going on out here…” He trailed off, staring at the tuft of vibrant fur. No wolf he knew had fur like that, hell most things he knew of didn’t have fur like that. Unless you counted his old neighbor who dyed her poodle a disturbing shade of scarlet to match her own very unnatural hair. 

“I don’t think we’re dealing with one of my kind…” A sound jerked his attention away from the fur, his heart sinking. Finn was the predator often enough to realize when he was actually the prey. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his eyes snapped up to the sound. He froze, hoping Pen would follow suit, as his eyes found the source of the noise. A bright red lump was sitting a few yards above the pair, somehow poised and ready to jump. Finn had seen some vague drawings resembling this thing, but to be honest, he was a little out of his element here. 

“Pen, move!” 

Luckily Finn had his wolfy instincts, and he lunged, pushing Pen out of the path of destruction. It all happened in a second: the creature leaped out of the tree, somehow adjusting for Finn’s movement, and it came crashing down on him. The wolf thrashed, trying to get a look at the thing now that it was closer but all he could see was a giant mouth. Was this thing trying to swallow him whole?? He wrestled with the giant blob of fur, trying to get the upper hand. It wasn’t the strongest thing he’d ever fought, but it definitely had the element of surprise.

“A little help here!”

Not What I Thought || Finn & Pen

[finnblackthorne]

fcilvre‌:

   Her eyes cast a glance up to Finn, marking his face in her memory as she did most people when she met them both in daylight hours and in a situation which called for it. She could probably document the entire population of Ashbourne from memory alone, should those people have ever crossed the threshold of Town Hall where she had the most time to people watch in silence. She felt like she’d seen him before, but couldn’t quite place it, and though her brows knit briefly the smile never faltered.

   “Oh man, what a day to ask me that. I just got basic goat curry, honestly, but I have to say they have the best bammy’s here.” Patricia paused, realizing how stupid that statement would seem to most people as others had the ability to travel the world and eat Jamaican food IN Jamaica, but she shook her head for a moment and laughed, “Well, I imagine anyway… I’ve only ever had it from this food truck.”

   Patricia could very much be painted as the girl next door, though not the usual, traditional image of a blonde girl with a sweet attitude — her features were much darker, and would be considered ‘exotic’ in some places — she was just as sweet and tried to, at least most of the time, be as helpful as any she’d read about in the books. It was a persona she’d had for so long — and that was so close to the girl she could have been had the world not kicked her ass — that it felt less uncomfortable than the others; sadness need not permeate her being AND someone else’s because she decided to be dour.

   “If you’re not squeamish I could let you try some of my curry, and since I bumped into you.. I won’t hear any argument about it being your fault, I was the idiot… I could buy you a bammy… maybe with syrup, like a dessert… sometimes they soak them in coconut milk and…” Patricia paused to make a pleased noise. Food was one of those things, like music, that seemed to create decade-and-world spanning joy.

Finn grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey, the best in Ashbourne is still the best somewhere!” There were a lot of restaurant Finn missed now that he was stuck in town, but he’d come to terms with it a long time ago. Some people, it might force them to get in the kitchen and get more creative. But Finn, not so much. If anything, it made him eat less, which definitely wasn’t conducive to anything. So he’d forced himself to get familiar with all the restaurants and foodie places town had to offer. Food trucks were always a good bet in his life before he found his way here, so it was only natural he’d be drawn to it now.

The woman was a breath of fresh air. Finn found most of his days were filled with the riff raff in town, or being verbally berated by his coworkers and chief, and to be honest, most of the town had a dour feel to it. Sure, they were watched over by a giant tree that bled and had a heartbeat and they lived nextdoor to literal monsters, but that didn’t mean everything always had to be so doom and gloom. Sometimes you just needed to remember the little things, the normal things, that were still there.

Like food. Like exotic comfort food. “Yeah, sure! I mean, if you don’t mind of course. But I’m drawing the line at you buyin’ my lunch. I’ll compromise though, you gotta order for me. Whatever you’re talkin’ about sounds delicious and I’ll never order it right!” 

[finnblackthorne]

thymeandreason‌:

“Okay first of all, you are a beautiful proud werewolf and if anything this is more like Princess Mononoke alright?” That same prideful, giddy laugh erupted out of her.  This kind of ‘danger’ and ‘mischief’ was what she missed. Playful, and nice. A good break from all this…. breaking. Ashbourne could beat you down, but if moments like this still existed, it made it all a little bit worth it. 

Down to the ground, out in the cold. Okay. Not too much longer now. Carefully she hopped up, sure to not brace anything against her arm in the process. Then wrapped her good arm around his shoulders and held tight. “Is this alright? Not too much?” Admittedly, he had a supernatural advantage, but it wasn’t like she was trying to be a burden. 

“And seriously Finn-” She rested her chin on his shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do this, I know how much the watch means to you, and you could have gotten in trouble…”  A contemplative moment later, she squeezed him tighter in her grip. “So thank you. Lots.” 

Finn caught himself before a booming laugh erupted from him, giving away their location. Instead, he let out a choked giggle and slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’ll take your word for it, then.” He accentuated with a flip of his shaggy hair before hoisting her onto his back. 

Josie was light, barely even registering at weight on his back. “You’re fine, Jos.” He hitched her up, making sure she was secure before glancing back with a smile. “What would my life even be if I didn’t risk my job on a daily basis? Really, it’s no trouble. You call me any time, okay?”

Quiet Hours

[finnblackthorne]

juliettelikethesun‌:

“Not sure if I would go that far. Even a disappointing solution is better than a frustrating mystery. I like answers to questions more than I like questions. I suppose it may be a bit of different strokes.” Her shoulder lifted a hint at the words, eyes watching the shaggy man for a moment. Something, someone, had hurt him, it would seem. His outlook on life was colored by some deep, painful moment that he couldn’t move past. Perhaps the kind of man who couldn’t find the silver lining in any situation. Juliette could understand the feeling, sometimes. She had moments where giving into the bitter and the pain was easier than trying to move past it. But those were fleeting for the woman, and she thought that this man might choose to go that particular route more often.

It was almost a shame. Brooding and sad was a character type that got old too fast. She wondered if there was something else to this man under all that. Or, at the very least, wondered what it was that he couldn’t move past.

A smile briefly passed her lips. “Next time, you’re more than welcome to treat me.” But the smile, as well as the playful tone, faltered slightly at his muttered follow up, and a smooth eyebrow lifted slightly. A slightly sympathetic frown taking over her expression for a moment as she reached out to press her fingers against the back of his wrist. “Horrible disfigurement, physical or otherwise, don’t define the person, either.” She attempted a smile, one that she hoped conveyed a touch of hope itself, but she couldn’t be sure, with her extremely limited knowledge on what they seemed to be talking circles around.

“I think that the world would be a better place if we lost the pretense all together, but that’s a bit of a dreamers fantasy.” She lifted her glass to her lips, took a small sip as eyes trailed around the little bar, landing here and there on other patrons. Little narratives flitted across her mind for every one that she saw. “Everyone is simply trying to get by the best way they know how.” Her eyes landed on a pair across the place and she leaned in a bit. “Would you like to play a game with me?” Her face lit up more, a bit devious in the smirk as she nodded toward the couple she had spotted. “Do you see that couple? Make up a story for them, the first thing that comes to mind simply looking at them.”

Finn leaned back, giving a halfhearted shrug in response. “I’d say most answers lead to more frustrating questions around here.” He could feel himself being the downer that he hated, the kind of person he would normally be clamoring to help. But didn’t he always tell his brothers and sisters that it was okay to have days like this? Hadn’t he told Peter that a million times? Just don’t let it become your norm. Give yourself a day, just one day, to wallow, then pick yourself back up. He could almost feel Mari’s disappointment from beyond the grave. She wouldn’t want him to be this sad sack in a bar when a stranger was trying to be perfectly nice, even treating him to a few drinks. 

“I’ll take you up on that,” he smiled, raising his glass in a small ‘cheers’ gesture. The downside to heightened senses was the ability to feel emotions shift around you. He supposed it was a canine thing, like how dogs always seemed to know when you needed them to cuddle up on you. But for Finn, at times like this, it was just reminding him when people were pitying him. More than anything, he wanted to be the shoulder people cried on, not the one who needed to cry. He gave the woman a small smile, appreciating her concern and kindness. “Most days, I like to think that too.” 

Quickly jumping on the next topic of conversation, Finn took a long sip of beer as he listened, nodding in agreement. “I guess there’s always something you’ll feel like you gotta hide, right?” His eyes followed the woman’s gaze, landing on a few vignettes of strangers in the bar, each living their own lives with their own problems, drinking the night away. Some he recognized, others had probably recently stumbled into town. He felt a pang of sadness for the new faces. It seemed this place was always growing. 

“Oh, I think I’ve played this one before,” he smiled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, grateful to take the attention off himself. “Let’s see....the woman, Larsa van Woofelhauser, used to be a test pilot before she got stuck here. It’s killin’ her that she can’t fly anymore, so she came here to forget.” He nodded at the man with slick black hair crowding his fictional Miss Woofelhauser. “And him, well he used to be a car salesman. He’s a bit oily and creepy, but he reminds her how exciting town is, even if she can’t fly above it all. But he also knows she wayyyy out of his league, so he tries way too hard to prove his worth.”

He smiled lightly, leaning back in the booth. “Or I could be wrong,” he grinned, nodding for his companion to take a whack at it. 

[finnblackthorne]

fcilvre‌:

Location: Jaimaican Me Crazy (food truck,) Town Square

Time: Mid-afternoon

Who: open

   One of the perks of working at the Town Hall as a File Clerk is that most people left her well enough alone; she wasn’t forced to deal with her boss that much, and most of her work was handed down to her and she could hide either in the stacks moving files around or at her ancient computer making sure that everything was filed in properly. It didn’t mean she never dealt with people — no job is perfect, after all — but it meant that at work she could stop her smiling routine; she didn’t have to hide the pervasive sadness that permeated her being because no one was around to see it.

   Patricia usually took lunch at her desk, squirreled away with a home-made sandwich or something else, but unfortunately her sister had decided food experimentation in the middle of the night was more important. Not only had her sleep been interrupted by smoke alarms, but it meant that the kitchen was not safe for use in the morning when she got up to make her sandwich. She’d assured Celeste it was fine and offered smiles and pecks on the cheek, but it meant that now Patricia — a woman who didn’t play at hiding herself away but still managed it — was forced to seek food outside of her own little space.

   Standing in front of the food truck and looking at the near-caligraphy writing on the black board in front of her, she opted for Jerk Chicken to be on the safe side; she wasn’t that familiar. It wasn’t until she backed up to make room that she realized there was someone else there, and though she didn’t ram into them like a complete klutz, she did let out a squeak of surprise that sort of killed any notion of remaining anonymous, “You scared me,” internally, a fuck was uttered, “I’m so sorry.”

   The smile lit up like clockwork, practiced and easy; she really did want people around her to feel at ease because she knew none of them wanted to be stuck here anymore than she did, sometimes life just kicks you in the teeth and doesn’t stop until you’re shitting molars.

Ordinarily, Finn brought his lunch to work. On a good day, he’d have time to eat it as he poured over useless paperwork. He knew the importance of record keeping, but some of the files he had to fill out and file away were entirely useless. Would they ever really need to go back to find the kid who spray painted a penis on the side of the library? Probably not. But Finn liked rules, no matter how silly they may seem. So he usually went along and ate his sad packed lunch over a stack of papers. 

Today, however, someone had stolen his lunch. It wasn’t a rare occurrence. A lot of Watchers just grabbed whatever they could on their way out the door to some emergency or other, not caring to check if it was their own. Huffing out a sigh, Finn shoved the papers aside and grabbed his wallet. For a town as sparse as Ashbourne when it came to good lunch spots, they at least had a food truck. Even this town couldn’t stop from keeping up with the foodie times, even if it was just one spot.

Jamaican was one of Finn’s favorite meals. He remembered Mari used to make it for him all the time with a pange of sadness. Whenever he tried to treat her, he always got the seasonings wrong, but she never told him it was terrible. It was with a small, sad smile on his face that he stood in line, deciding on his order. Finn was lost in memory when a girl bumped into him, clearly flustered. He smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry about it! I shoulda been paying more attention!” Finn took a step to the side so the girl could pass. “Really, it’s no problem at all.” The woman looked familiar, maybe one of the Town Hall employees? “If you don’t mind my being nosy, what’d ya order? I’m looking to branch out from my norm today.”

[finnblackthorne]

peterwolfboylopez‌:

“I think we all know what ‘fine’ means to some extent.” Peter offered back slowly, chewing carefully on the thought before he quickly brushed it away. He hadn’t really been fine for a long time, before he had even discovered the true nature of what he had become. He had lost his family, which had been traumatic enough for him at eleven, and then had discovered, almost a decade later, that it had been by his own hand that he had lost them. Well… by his own paw. Teeth, Claws. The monster had taken them from him without caring a bit for the fact that Peter himself had needed them.

Why did he deserve a new family when he had destroyed the old one? At the least, Peter could take comfort in the fact that this new family could defend themselves from him. It was a small comfort. He huffed out a soft sigh. “It’s nothing I haven’t learned how to cope with.” He offered finally. He wouldn’t admit that his coping had grown more and more unhealthy over the years. That his tendencies tended to lean more suicidal the older he got.

A chuckle finally left him, strained but an attempt, anyway. “That sounds like the best idea you’ve had all night, Finn.” Cheap whiskey, half a bottle would do little to nothing to get him the buzz that he wanted, but it was a good start. And the company could be worse, at the least. “Whenever you’re ready, I think I’ve gotten the majority of the extraneous blood cleaned up. Just the blood that makes sense left.”

“Yeah, I know,” He replied gently, letting the subject close. It wasn’t always Finn’s place to be everyone’s savior, as he was told quite often. It wasn’t his strength, leaving people alone when they clearly needed help, but what he was good at was being the one people came to in times of need. Or when they had a murder to cover up.

“Coping is good.” Even if it wasn’t always moving on and living. “Aaand coping with crappy booze is even better!” He stood, brushing himself off and taking another look at the scene, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Blood was at a minimum, the body was repositioned vaguely enough to keep the Watcher’s confused, and hell, maybe he’d even pawn this one off on that stupid kid, Gus. Lord knows he wouldn’t be able to do anything with this.

“I think we’re all good here. Man, we really make a good ‘murder clean up’ team huh?” He joked, hoping he wouldn’t have to do this kind of thing again and knowing he most definitely would.

“Let’s go grab that drink.”

END

Dig Me Out || Finn & Peter

[finnblackthorne]

peterwolfboylopez‌:

Peter felt his smile falter slightly, listening to Finn. He wasn’t entirely sure that he honestly deserved the kindness that the man was offering him, and it caused a small lump to form in his throat. Especially when the man called him family. Peter had never really thought about it, about how his pack truly were a family he hadn’t realized he needed for so long. When he had joined the pack in the first place, it was because he had no idea what he was getting into, but the pack, the men and women that he spent so much of his time around now. He offered a shaky sigh, carefully keeping his hand moving on his quest to clean, trying to hide the shaking in it. “Thank you.” His voice was soft, careful. Guarded, maybe. He was trying to pull that emotion back. He didn’t need to go acting like a baby in the middle of a murder scene.

Finn’s next words froze Peter for a moment, caused his jaw to tighten slightly. His immediate response was to raise up hackles, to get defensive. He had nothing to talk about, nothing he needed to say. That was what he had always told himself. He had problems, sure, but he dealt with them on his own, most of the time. Something like a murder? Sure, call up a friend to help hide the evidence. But when it came to his own personal problems?

Another soft sigh, and he shook his head a bit. “I appreciate it. I’m fine.” A mantra, he was fine. Everything was fine. He offered a bit of a wry grin, forcing his shaky hand to steady completely as he did. “If I ever want to talk, I’ll be sure to keep the offer in mind.”

Finn felt the air change, the tensity raise. Surprising, given the fact they were cleaning up a pretty graphic murder scene, that there was levity at all. But Finn felt it, and immediately regretting making the offer. Not because he didn’t mean it, but because it tended to evoke a defensive response. The opposite of what he was trying to do. So he let Peter sidestep the offer, brushing off the problems Finn knew he had. Maybe it wasn’t his place to be the vessel for him to unwind. And that was fine. He only hoped Peter would find someone to reach out to and unload even one of his problems onto.

He smiled, reaching out and patting Peter on the shoulder. “You know I know what ‘fine’ means, right?” His smile was teasing and he tried to keep it light. He wasn’t about to poke and prod Peter into talking when he clearly didn’t want to. At the same time, he wanted his friend to know that he wasn’t alone. Finn had been there. He’d told Harlan ‘I’m fine’ and then destroyed half his apartment or took a 4 hour sob-shower more times than he could count. 

“Now let’s finish this up and get the hell outta here, sound good? I think I’ve got a bottle of really terrible whiskey that may or may not be more like rubbing alcohol at this point back at my place if you’re interested in washing our collective memories clean of this.” 

Dig Me Out || Finn & Peter

[finnblackthorne]

penxramos‌:

After switching out her scrubs for clothes worthy of trudging through the woods, Pen grabbed her medical bag and headed out to the woods. This wasn’t a particularly unusual occurrence- healing was her calling after all. But dealing with more…delicate situations was quickly becoming her forte. Three years she had been in this strange town and making it her home had proven harder than she initially believed when she first arrived. When she first realized that there was no going back to her old life, whether she wanted to or not.

Work had been her solace, her safety net, her blanket to wrap herself in when the world became cruel. She immersed herself in it in the same way she did everything- with her entire being. In some strange way, it reminded her that she was human. Humans craved many things; comfort, food, shelter and above all, escape. Escape she craved more than anything. She breathed in the air as she finally came to the lake, the smell of water and earth mixing together in a natural symphony. It made her wonder what in the world Finn had managed to dredge up all the way out there. 

The witch adjusted the heavy bag on her shoulder and stopped short when she heard a familiar voice in the distance. With a small huff, she pushed herself forward until her eyes laid upon the werewolf and watcher. “Just me, I come in peace,” Penelope joked, holding up her hands in mock surrender. She blew out a small puff of air to move a loose strand of hair that fell before her eyes and looked at Finn expectantly. “So, what am I doing at the lake this early? Could they really not wait until lunch, maybe save the distress until I’ve had a decent meal?” It was all said in mirth. She gestured to the bag on her shoulder. “You were a little vague on the details so I brought… everything?” Her brows knitted in thought. “You know, uh, medical and… otherwise. Herbs, poultices. What are we dealing with, by the way?”

Finn straightened, glancing over his shoulder at Pen. He smiled, hoisting his bag further up on his shoulder. “Hey, if I could control the timing of all the weird shit and creatures in need, I’d space ‘em out a lot better and make sure none of it happened before 11am.” He chuckled, pulling out a power bar and tossing it over. He always snagged a few from the station before heading out, especially for insanely early or late cases. “I wouldn’t call it decent, but maybe it’ll tie you over?”

He turned his attention back to the lake, his eyes scanning the area for footprints, torn or broken branches, any kind of blood trail. “Unfortunately, what you know is more or less what I know,” he replied, stepping forward and beginning his investigation of the area in earnest. “My guess is a new werewolf, probably confused and scared. There’s a fair amount of blood near, I can smell it…” Finn progressed in a more pointed direction, stepping towards the treeline. It was never his favorite thing to do, walking through - or even near - the woods that surrounded the town. He’d heard enough horror stories about the missing and dead that both disappeared and reappeared within its borders.

But this was a soul in danger. He could remember the fear and pain that came with your first change, and he could only imagine what was going through their mind. Finn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he stepped under the trees, but he shook it off. Probably just the woods reaching out to his inner beast. He kneeled, picking up a tuft of fur. Vibrant red fur. He raised an eyebrow and held it out to Pen. “Ever hear of a werewolf who dyes their hair?”

Not What I Thought || Finn & Pen

[finnblackthorne]

peterwolfboylopez‌:

He would have called that a major understatement. Calling the mutt a ‘bit of a dick’. He would have said a horrible, disgusting monster, personally. But those thoughts, he had learned, were better kept in his head, and he forced himself to smile at the attempted ribbing. He had no agency over the beast, and he was well aware that people thought he shouldn’t blame himself for the actions of the animal that lived in his skin. It didn’t make it any easier to take any of that advice to heed. It was still inside of him, it was still his body, lupine as it might be, and it was still him to some degree. He had always done what he could to separate himself from the wolf, but it was always there, in the back of his mind snarling and growling and weighing in. It was always there in his heightened senses, always there in the way that he was quick to anger and instinct took over in moments that he would rather they not. 

Try as he might, he couldn’t help but admit that, deep down, the beast and the man were still the same thing. Hiding behind his compartmentalization only got him so far. 

He was a bit glad, at the very least, that he wasn’t getting a lecture on hanging around with the Ulrich wolf. It wasn’t as if it had been a conscious choice. They hadn’t decided to go and get a beer together like they were friends. He and that mongrel were never going to be friends. Still, he owed the man a debt in his life. Perhaps he could forget it, simply because he had ended up wrapped up in this little murder. He could keep that debt off his list simply because it had only gotten him more trouble than it was worth. He would consider it. Maybe send the oafish lumberjack a nice bottle of scotch or something if guilt hit him over the whole thing. 

“I am not aware, please do enlighten me, oh wise one. What do they say about being the prettiest and the easiest?” This time his grin was genuine, and he offered a bit of a sigh as he glanced down at his (completely ruined) shirt again before ripping a strip of it off and soaking it in the bleach in his other hand, glanced around before kneeling to start wiping off the bloody trash can lid that was still on the ground. “Thank you, by the way… For coming. I… know I’m kind of jeopardizing your job with this… I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t make me say it,” Finn laughed, letting some levity fall over the macabre scene. He was still disappointed in Peter, but more so he was worried. He’d always known the guy took to being a werewolf worse than a lot of the pack, but Finn never thought he’d just go around putting himself in this kind of danger. He thought he had more to live for than that. But now wasn’t the time to reprimand him too much. It wouldn’t make anything better for him to add more guilt to the already massive load he knew Peter carried for himself.

He waved off the concern as he rearranged the body into something more vaguely accidental. “Don’t worry about it. You know you can always call me when shit hits the fan, okay? Or even when it’s just sitting there, smelling up your doorstep.” He paused, looking up at his brother. “The job doesn’t matter as much as family, okay?” Sure there was a lot of trouble he could get into if anyone ever found out he was helping cover up a murder, especially one at the hands of a werewolf. But if he was being honest, even if it was another wolf from another pack, he might be tempted to do the same just to spite some of those assholes at the station. He shrugged, beginning to pick up a few stray hairs and carefully placing them into his bag. “And if there’s anything you ever wanna talk about…” He let the offer hang in the air, reminding himself of his mother when she would try to learn what was going on with a surly teenage Finn while at the same time trying not to pry. 

Dig Me Out || Finn & Peter

[finnblackthorne]

harlankent‌:

Harlan didn’t know what Finn had been through. Maybe ‘lucky’ hadn’t been the right choice of words. It wasn’t as if people who’d been turned into werewolves usually had an easy go of things, but Finn’s whole demeanour told Harlan his brush in had probably been a bit more extreme than many cases. He tried to find his tact, considering how best to explain this so as not to traumatize the poor man any further.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled up a chair so he could sit opposite Finn, looking him in the eyes while he spoke to him. “Your bite. I know a werewolf bite when I see it because… I am one.” The rolling pin should at least reassure Finn he wasn’t lying. “Since you were bitten on the full moon, you’re going to start turning into one too. It’s going to hurt. All your bones breaking and your body rearranging itself… I don’t say it to scare you, but you need to know what you’re in for.”

He tried to take his answers slowly, answering Finn step by step, a conscious effort for him since he normally spoke a mile a minute. Harlan was so used to life as a werewolf, life in the supernatural world, that it was easy to skip over things when explaining it to someone else, thinking they’d understand more than they did. “It gets easier, with time. My pack, the Zalman pack, we look after each other. We can help you.”

As if Finn’s world hadn’t already just come crashing down, now he was being told he was now some sort of supernatural, fictional monster, the same kind that supposedly killed and shredded Mari and his future in one fell swoop. Finn felt woozy, and not from his wounds or the alcohol. He took another long sip, cringing as the liquid burned some feeling back into him. 

“You?” He looked up, raising an eyebrow. The guy definitely seemed too calm for having taken a bloody and broken stranger into his house, not to mention how easily he snapped the rolling pin. “Were you bitten?” If Harlan was trying not to scare him, he was doing a pretty shit job of it. But realistically, what would be a better way to break that kinda news? If his mind had been in a less shattered state, Finn knew he would appreciate the heads up. 

“Pack? There’s packs?” He couldn’t explain it, but the idea that there was a whole group of these...werewolves, going through the same thing he might be, it was relieving. Especially if any of them were as open and supportive as Harlan. “They’re...nice? Like you?”

A Hell Of A Bite || Harlan & Finn

[finnblackthorne]

juliettelikethesun‌:

“I’m afraid I’ve been here for far too short a time to find what this town is trying to hide. I do hope to come across something soon, though. Secrets aren’t fun until you’ve discovered them.” The shrug that Juliette offered was nonchalant as she pulled away from the table again, leaned back in the seat with a bit of a chuckle. Her drink had been, unfortunately, emptied, and she waved toward the bartender to fill it up again with a charming little grin. When the man had made his way over, she rested cool fingers against his wrist, glanced up at him. “And another for my friend, when you’ve got a moment. You can put it all on my tab.”

Turning back to Finn yet again, she lifted an eyebrow at him, though her grin never faltered. “Could be anything. Pain, anger, evil. In the Phantom of the Opera, it was a horrible disfigurement that the poor Phantom could never get over, which was extremely unfortunate.” She twisted her hand in the air, grasping for the right thought to come to her before pointing at the man with a grin. “We all wear a bit of a mask, though, don’t we? At least, we did before we found Ashbourne.”

She was a vampire, it wasn’t something that she went around proudly announcing to everyone who would listen, not before coming to this town. It wasn’t a safe place by any stretch, but it was unsafe for different reasons than the scars of battle they carried. “Some of us still wear the mask here. But for a different reason, or to hide different things. Each and every person alive has something to hide, to bury deep down, to hide under a mask, as it were. The metaphor got stretched a bit too far, I think, but you understand what I mean, I hope.”

Finn raised an eyebrow and turned his attention back to the dwindling beer in front of him. “One day you’re gonna wish you could go back to being in the dark about all the ‘mystery’.” He knew he sounded jaded, and that’s what he was, to an extent. It didn’t keep him from doing his job or stepping in when he needed to, but some days, like today, he couldn’t help the apathy that seeped into his mood thanks to this place.

He tilted his head at the bartender as he walked away. “Thanks for that...I could pay you know. Chivalry and all that.” Usually he would. Finn was ever the gentleman, but tonight he didn’t have the fight in him. “Horrible disfigurement doesn’t just come in appearances,” he muttered, his mind floating back to the last full moon where he didn’t take the proper precautions. ‘Extremely unfortunate’ was an understatement in his case.

“I guess you’re right.” Finn shrugged. “Even though I gotta disagree to a point. I was a pretty open book before and after I got stuck here. Secrets and relationships don’t mesh well, ya know?” The bartender returned with a fresh round for the pair and Finn almost jumped at the glass of frothing booze. While he didn’t go around putting on an act, Finn knew he hid things about himself now. Moreso than he ever would have before the incident. Just being in his line of work, being what he was, it came with its own sort of danger. The Watch wasn’t ‘against’ employing all species, but there sure were a lot of people on the force who would bury a silver dagger in his chest given the chance.

[finnblackthorne]

thymeandreason‌:

Josie was grinning something fierce by the time he’d gotten over to the elevator. She stood triumphant over near the buttons, and soon as he stepped on she pressed the button that’d lead to their eventual freedom. The patient leaned her back against the cool metal walls as the elevator started it’s descent. “Well, I think I should have some sort of slippers in that bag, but it might honestly be faster if you do. I’m not so sure my shufflin’ is gonna work so well on concrete.” 

Piggy back ride. Wow. She’d not gotten one of those in a while. Probably since the last time she and her brother had to very quickly run away from something. Maybe before Ashbourne entirely, though those first few years were not the easiest either. A question for later, when her thoughts were more gathered and less foggy from the concussion and or the pain meds. 

“Also if we can avoid any mopeds that’d be super great. I don’t remember you ever having one, but like, just in case so. Please say no.” 

Though he’d meant it as a joke, Finn knew she was right, it would be faster and probably easier on both of them if he just carried her. They descended through the few floors of the hospital and Finn shrugged out of his jacket, placing it around Josie’s shoulders. “Alright, but only if you promise not to make any horse noises, ‘kay?” 

It had been ages since Finn had given a real piggy back ride, one that was almost out of joy rather than necessity. Probably before he ever reached the borders of Ashbourne. Mari had loved them, always squealing with delight whenever he threw her over his shoulders. 

A loud ding signaled their arrival on the ground floor and Finn motioned for Josie to stay put for a quick second while he checked if the coast was clear. Instead of just saying an all clear, he waved his hands around in nonsense, pretend military code with a grin on his face.

Once outside the building, he crouched down, preparing to take her weight onto his back. “I promise, I’m not a moped man.” His words were joking but his tone was serious. As soon as Josie was safe in her bed, Finn was gonna make sure no one in this entire town owned a moped anymore. “Now jump on up!”

Quiet Hours

[finnblackthorne]

peterwolfboylopez‌:

Peter let out a wet laugh, head shaking a bit. “Right, not a monster. Tell that to the thing that comes ripping out of my skin once a month.” There was more. So much more that Peter could say. He could write an entire books worth of proof that he was an abomination, a monster hiding in human skin. There was a precedent for it, after all. God, his God, would have looked at him as a monster, and that was quite enough for Peter. Even if his faith kept him firm, kept him believing, he knew that the moment he died, he would be rejected from Heaven and find himself wallowing in his misery in Hell. Tortured and reminded for all eternity that he was evil.

If he even had a soul left.

A sharp intake of breath, and Peter quickly shook his head. “He saved my life.” His tone was defensive, even when it didn’t have to be. He had watched the man murder this poor hunter when they just as easily could have roughed him up and gone home. Still, Peter would have been dead if the other mutt hadn’t shown up, and that was something. Even if it had been Peter’s intention in the first place…

He reached out automatically, grabbed the bottle from the air and took a quick look around. “Doesn’t everyone want the most beautiful werewolf in Ashbourne for their own?” The jokes and the teasing helped as he uncapped the bottle, taking a few weary steps over to assess the true damage of the situation. “What are you planning? I don’t want to get you in trouble with that… man you work for.”

A tight smile, a pitying smile, found it’s way onto Finn’s face. He hoped the darkness would hide it, knowing how terrible someone’s pity felt. It wasn’t like Finn was unfamiliar with the idea that he was a monster. They all did, from time to time. Sometimes more often. It had taken Finn years to come to grips with his new nature, and the fact that he was now the same creature that had taken away his future, and the future of the one person he loved most in the world. Everyone had their own baggage, their own losses, and it took everyone their own time to deal with it. But no matter how much he was around his new brothers, no matter how hard he knew it could be, it never stopped breaking his heart when his new family felt hopeless. 

“Yeah, that guy can be a bit of a dick,” he tried, throwing an elbow at Peter to show he was trying to joke. Joke’s weren’t always his best thing, but he tried. It was the thought that counted, right? Sometimes Finn preferred when the beast took over. Sometimes it was better to forget, better to let someone else have the reins for a bit. But he knew the guilt hangover that came with it too. Far too well.

“Sure,” he nodded, still pretty pissed off that Peter was keeping company with someone like Gabe, but at the same time knowing when to keep his mouth shut. And he was right. As much as Finn didn’t like the guy, he didn’t deserve to be hunted like this. None of them did.

“Okay, okay. But you gotta at least make them work for it, hm? You know what they say about the prettiest and the easiest…” He laughed, bending down and pulling some more supplies out of his bag. “First things first, get rid of all the wolf smell. Jack may not be able to smell it, but you know someone else might and they’re not gonna pull punches.” His voice shifted from jovial to terse as it always did when he had to talk about the Chief. “We’re gonna keep it ambiguous, a nightly stroll in a bad neighborhood gone wrong.” He shrugged. “Not so far off from the truth, just without any packs involved.”

Dig Me Out || Finn & Peter

[finnblackthorne]

penxramos‌:

“Hey, Mrs. Thomas’ blood pressure was a little low during her exam today. Can we get her scheduled for an ECG?” Pen rattled off the moment she hit the nurse station, her eyes tethered to the clipboard in her hand with her latest patients’ charts. It was still fairly early in the day, but the hospital was already running like a well oiled machine. Nurses and doctors fluttered past, some in a rush, others still sipping their morning coffee. Penelope herself had a pen sticking out of her hair, a testament to the end of her oddly scheduled shift. 

“Don’t you ever take a break, Ramos?” One of the other nurses shot back at her as Pen handed them her charts. The witch smiled back and shook her head, her hand reaching up to rub against her eyes. “Yeah, I like to schedule a little “me” time during my walk from the parking garage. Very invigorating.” The other nurse shook her head and chuckled her. “Well, Nurse Invigorated, you got a call on line one.” Pen frowned before she reached over the desk and picked up the phone. “This is Nurse Ramos…” 

Finn Blackthorne. A watcher, a werewolf, a friend- she guessed. He was a decently good person, the kind she trusted enough not to stab her in the back or try to peal apart the delicate pieces of her life. For those worries, she had to look elsewhere. “Depends, how interesting are we talking?” She pulled out her phone and looked at the clock. “ Uh yeah, twenty minutes is good. I’ll grab my bag and see you then.”

“The kind of interesting I’m not equipped to deal with,” he replied with a small chuckle. It wasn’t funny, but Finn liked to be self-deprecating first thing in the morning. He grabbed his too cold cup of coffee and headed for the door. “See you soon, then!” 

It didn’t take long for the werewolf to reach the lakeside. No matter how many times he came out here, the place always gave him the chills. Something about lakes not having a steady current like the ocean, or the black water hiding lord knew how many mysteries under the surface. There hadn’t been any overly supernatural drownings since he’d gotten to town, not until recently. The word mermaid had been tossed around more often than ever before and all he could think about were the old stories his grandparents used to tell him about the “sirens of the sea”, beautiful but hauntingly vicious creatures who drowned any man they could get a hold of. He shivered and reminded himself he was a man of the Watch. He was a protector of this town and he would not be frightened by some old legends his parents told him a million miles away from here.

While he waited for Pen to arrive, Finn took a lap around the area. The call had been vague, mentioning fur, blood, and a rather frightened voice. He suspected a new werewolf, given the state of the moon and how shitty he was feeling himself, but the town was full of surprises. There wasn’t much at the scene, but if they were dealing with someone scared and confused, the person in question was probably hiding. He kept his footsteps light, not wanting to spook anyone before he had company. The smell of iron was light on the wind, probably no more than 3 or 4 hours old. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Not What I Thought || Finn & Pen