#I had a point to this. I think I’m just in a werewolf mood

[ducotte-real]

YOU KNOW WHAT??? Laios’ monstersona was a chimera bc it drew from his fascination with monsters. If his values were more about his hunger than his admiration for life and biology he woulda been a Rougarou. That’s ALL I’m saying. This guy is hungry yeah but he eats to overcome, his eating has purpose. Food is strength and life in the dungeon. He admires what that food means for the ecosystem as much as he wants to participate

[rosieswriting]

More than what you see

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: You need to remind your boyfriend how much he is worthy off once again after a terrible full moon

Note: English is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! It´s pure fluff with hurt/comfort from reader to Remus because i just love this prompt so much.

Words: 1.4K

He was barely holding himself together; shoulders slumped as he leaned against the cold wall of your bedroom. Still, as you reached for him, he shifted, pulling his torn sleeves down over the raw skin on his arms.

“Don’t. I’m fine,” he muttered, but the words lacked conviction, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. He tried to tug the tattered fabric tighter, as if hiding the wounds could somehow shield you from seeing just how much he was hurting.

You knelt beside him, hands hovering just inches away, waiting. He took a shuddering breath, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, guilt flickering in them. “You… you shouldn’t have to keep doing this,” he mumbled, voice cracking as he finally let his head fall back against the wall. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I don’t want you to see me like this. Not… every time.”

You bit your inner cheek at his words, your own heart aching for him. “But I want to be here for you. I want to help you,” you said slowly and softly, making sure not to elevate your tone. “Please, let me help you.”

He looked up at you; it still felt surreal to him to have someone in his life who wasn’t annoyed or bothered by his condition, even after years of friendship and months of dating. He just looked at you for a moment and nodded, allowing you to care for him.

You smiled softly and grabbed the hem of his shirt, slowly and carefully beginning to take it off him, the new scars along his chest revealed.

“It’s not like I prefer you with clothes anyway,” you muttered playfully, trying to lighten the mood as you let his shirt fall to the floor and reached for the med kit beside your bed.

He looked away, trying to hide a hint of a smile as you joked. It definitely helped reduce the tension. “Shut up,” he muttered back.

He tried to relax as you gently tended to his wounds, first disinfecting them and cleaning the dried blood from his chest and arms. “It’s not that bad, really,” he mumbled, wincing only slightly a few times when the cloth touched a particularly painful spot.

He was trying to downplay the whole thing, acting like he wasn’t struggling. He didn’t want to bother you or make you worry. Even so, the fact that you were here with him, taking care of him, made his heart fill with a different kind of comfort.

“Rem,” you called out softly. “I worry and heal freaking birds when they have a broken wing or something. You clearly went mad if you think I won’t help my boyfriend,” you teased him.

Remus raised an eyebrow, giving you a deadpan stare. “I’m offended that you’re comparing me to a bird,” he joked back, appreciating your playful banter. “You’re too good for me, you know that, don’t you?” he muttered, the smile that was beginning to form at the corners of his lips fading a little.

You finished healing his wounds and set the med kit on the table next to the bed before sitting in front of him, looking at him.

“I don’t know that. What I do know is that you don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m only good for you because you’re good for me. That’s how we work,” you spoke softly, brushing his hair out of his face.

He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. Of course, he had his moments of confidence and self-acceptance. Still, on days like this, his self-esteem hit an all-time low, and he couldn’t help but feel like you were doing too much for him.

“But I’m a werewolf,” he pointed out in a low voice. His mind kept telling him that someone as good as you should run as far away as possible from a creature like him, not stay and care for him.

“You are Remus Lupin,” you said quickly and softly. “You are my friend and my boyfriend. Being a werewolf is part of you, but it doesn’t define you. You are you, and you happen to be the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

He swallowed hard at your words, feeling a mixture of emotions welling up inside him. It wasn’t as if no one had ever said something kind to him; thanks to Merlin, he had wonderful friends. But those words coming from you always hit him hard. He still hesitated to believe them, though. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Rem,” you mumbled softly, your own heart breaking at how he couldn’t see himself as you did. You cupped his face softly and made him look at you. “You know me; if I even thought for a second that you were a monster, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be dating you, and I wouldn’t be telling you how amazing you are. But I am here because you, Remus Lupin, are nowhere near a monster. Not even close.”

He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of your soft hands as you cupped his face. Your words were like a warm caress that soothed his aching heart, but he still struggled internally to let your message sink in. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. “You deserve someone who’s normal, someone who isn’t a walking time bomb.”

“I know what I’m worthy of,” you cut him off softly, not wanting him to keep talking down about himself. “I’m worthy of someone who loves and appreciates me. Someone who’s with me at all times, who cries with me when something bad happens, and who laughs with me when something good happens. I’m worthy of love and devotion. Of someone who’ll come to me the moment I call them, even if they’re doing something important. Of someone who makes me feel safe,” you spoke sweetly, caressing his cheek. “And that someone is you.”

Remus was quiet for a few moments, his eyes locked on yours as he took in your words. Each sentence was like a knife, tearing down the walls he’d built around himself. He swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat. “You do deserve that,” he managed to say at last.

“And you give me all of that and more,” you let out a short laugh. “Merlin, I used to think I was such a loser, Remus. Really, I always thought nobody would ever have the patience to even try to date me. But then you appeared, and you were you. You were the only one—and still are—who lets me ramble for hours about silly things. You’re the one who makes me feel loved. No monster could ever do that.”

His heart clenched at your words. The thought of you thinking of yourself as a loser tore at his soul. How could you, the kindest, sweetest, and most generous person, ever think something like that? He reached out and took your hands in his, holding them tight. “You are not a loser,” he murmured softly. “You are vibrant, caring, and everything good in the world.”

You smiled at his words and squeezed his hands. “So are you, and it pains me that you don’t realize. I love you, everything about you.”

Remus’s breath hitched at your words. The feeling of your hands clutching his and your smile washing over him left him lost for words, unable to find the right response to express just how deeply your love affected him.

“I love you too,” he choked, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “More than anything in the world.”

“I will tell you every day that you are not a monster until it gets into your thick head, do you understand me, Lupin?” you mumbled softly, teasingly.

He let out a soft chuckle, a mix of amusement and affection. “Trust me, you’re loud enough that it’s impossible to ignore what you say,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, making you roll your eyes in playful banter.

“But in all seriousness,” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, the tension and lingering self-doubt slowly melting away. “I’ll try to stop beating myself up all the time.”

You smiled widely at his words. “Can I kiss you now?” you asked playfully, making him chuckle.

“Of course, dove.”

He leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a slow, soft kiss filled with reassurance and love.

The next day, when you went off in the afternoon to spend time with your friends, he went to a jewelry shop and bought an engagement ring.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In contrast to my Dark!Rhys in Obsidian Salt, pls enjoy some fluffy werewolf!bat boy head canons that have been floating around in my head all day:

•Werewolf!Azriel who scents you before the others and (not so)secretly plants a little wolfsbane in the garden beneath your window to ensure no other wolves come sniffing around before he can claim you

•Werewolf!Cassian with extra long scruffy hair and a matching beard (I’m drooling) who loves it when you play with his hair or when you squeal when his scruff scratches your cheek when he goes in for a kiss.

•Werewolf!Rhys who INSISTS you cannot leave the house until he has rubbed his scent over every bit of you. He twines himself around you like a giant cat, making sure he pays extra attention to the scent glands on your throat and wrists. Anyone who gets close will have to get through the layer of him on you before they can even catch a whiff of your own scent. (He definitely rolls around in your laundry when you’re not home so his scent is on your clothes too but he always folds them neatly and puts them back before you get home)

•Speaking of laundry, good luck heading into work in any other top but a turtleneck or sweatshirt. Not because they’re so possessive that they care what you wear out, but those bastards are competitive and if one of them leaves a hickey they ALL have to leave a hickey. It soon spirals into who can mark you up the most and it gets to a point that your coworkers are concerned for your wellbeing. You have to, on more than one occasion, explain that everything is fine back home, great actually, but your werewolf boyfriends are very, very competitive (and definitely a tad possessive)

•The boys have lived a long time together, just the three of them, their scents over every bit of the house until the day you finally move in and start lighting candles and bringing home flowers to sit in the windowsills to brighten the place up; the first time the boys come home Cass makes a comment about it smelling weird in the house now and you dejectedly throw it all out thinking he hates it and you’ve now invaded their space. This sends Cass into an absolute SPIRAL because he didn’t mean it like that he just has been so used to the others’ scents. He starts bringing you home any flower and candle he can get his hands on to the point that the hall closet is precariously full of candles that have never and probably will never be lit.

•There is ALWAYS someone to cuddle with. On the couch reading? Cass is sprawled out with his head on your stomach, large arms wrapped around your middle, keeping you warm with his natural body heat. Sitting in the library working on reports? Rhys will lift you out of the chair and sit himself down so you can relax in his lap, head leaning between the juncture of his shoulder and throat, one of the few times the wolf will be utterly vulnerable to you. Lounging in bed, curtains shut for the night? Azriel will keep you tucked tight against his chest, one leg tossed over yours practically keeping you pinned to the mattress. Mother forbid you even try to leave. He is a vice. You are in bed for the night. Maybe the week, depends on his mood. And Cauldron Boil you if you’ve had a bad day, all three of them are piled onto one piece of furniture to hold you and stroke your hair.

•Their first full moon with you in the house is a mess. You come home from the store to find them dragging the thickest chains you’ve ever seen down into the basement.

“It’s for your safety.” Azriel says.

You bite down on the laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat. They’re really adorable, all concerned for your safety and convinced they’re a danger to you.

“You guys know this isn’t the first full moon I’ve spent with you, right?” You ask and the confusion on their faces is enough to remind you that they often black out completely on nights like this. “You all came sniffing around my apartment. I sprayed Az in the face with a water bottle infused with wolfsbane. Cass let me scratch him behind the ears like a puppy.”

Cassian is blushing so hard you think the pink tinting his cheeks might be permanent.

Azriel scratches the top of his head, trying to recall.

“And you,” you say poking Rhys in the chest. “Broke my fucking window, not to do any of the beastly things you think you do on a full moon, but to eat my chocolate cake off the counter! I had a full panic attack I thought you were going to die on my floor!”

“I don’t remember so it doesn’t count,” he says but there is the faintest hint of pink on his own cheeks, violet eyes glinting in amusement.

“So you can put the chains away, I’ll be fine.” And you’re correct. Cassian does tear the basement door completely off it’s hinges and the local population of sheep decline drastically, but at the end of the night, three large furballs climb into your bed with the first rays of dawn to cuddle with you, snouts nuzzling into your neck to breathe in your scent. The real inconvenience is that everything smells like wet dog in the morning and you have to wash the sheets twice to get the smell out.

Ugh I’m gonna have to write some fics about this soon!

[r-memberme]

sparkling commentary | k.m

⎯⎯“What can I say? I’m a giver.”

warings: none, just me thinking im funny

The Mikaelson compound was eerily quiet, save for the low hum of the fire crackling in the grand hall. Klaus Mikaelson sat sprawled across his favorite leather sofa, an almost-too-full glass of red wine dangling from his hand as he stared into the flames. His posture screamed disinterest—legs casually draped over the armrest, his head tilted against the back of the sofa—but the sharp set of his jaw betrayed his simmering thoughts.

This was how Klaus dealt with his problems: brooding, plotting, and occasionally snapping at whatever poor soul dared interrupt him.

The double doors creaked open behind him, their groan echoing through the quiet hall. Klaus didn’t bother to turn. Few people had the audacity to stroll into the Mikaelson compound unannounced, and fewer still would dare do so while he was in one of his infamous moods.

“Well, don’t you look cheerful,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife—sharp, amused, and entirely unbothered by the hybrid glowering at her from his perch.

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment, as if summoning patience from some otherworldly source. He took a slow sip of his wine before responding. “Ah, yes. Because what I truly needed tonight was your sparkling commentary.”

She smirked, strolling into the room like she owned the place. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

“Is it too much to hope that you’ll give me silence?” Klaus muttered, swirling his wine.

“Silence? From me? Don’t be ridiculous.” She plopped down on the opposite end of the sofa, stretching her legs out across the cushions without a care in the world. “Now, tell me—what’s got you sulking tonight?”

“I am not sulking,” Klaus snapped, his eyes narrowing.

She raised a brow, her expression caught between amusement and disbelief. “Oh, you so are. You’ve got that whole ‘brooding villain’ thing going on again. You know, staring at the fire like it’s personally offended you. Very dramatic.”

Klaus exhaled sharply through his nose, setting his glass down with just enough force to make a point. “I am reflecting, darling. Something you clearly don’t have the capacity for.”

“Oh, I can reflect,” she shot back, grabbing the wine bottle off the table and pouring herself a glass. “I just don’t do it while looking like someone stole my favorite toy.”

Klaus gave her a withering look. “Do you enjoy making my life miserable, or is it simply a natural talent?”

“Both,” she replied cheerfully, taking a sip of her wine. “But don’t act like you’re not secretly entertained by it. You’d have thrown me out ages ago if I actually annoyed you.”

“Perhaps I’ve simply been too busy to deal with you,” Klaus retorted, leaning back against the sofa.

“Sure,” she said, smirking. “Because the almighty Klaus Mikaelson is so busy staring at walls and brooding over… what is it this time? Werewolf drama? Vampire politics? Someone looked at you funny?”

Klaus tilted his head, his lips curving into a dangerous smirk. “Careful, love. You’re playing a very dangerous game.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You wouldn’t hurt me. You’d miss me too much.”

Klaus barked out a laugh, the sound low and sharp. “You’re delusional if you think I’d miss this constant prattling.”

“And yet, here I am,” she pointed out, gesturing to herself. “Still alive, still pestering you. Face it, Klaus—you like having me around.”

Klaus opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a raised hand. “Nope. Don’t even try to deny it. You’re far too stubborn to admit it, but we both know the truth.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he fixed her with an intense stare. “And what truth is that, exactly?”

“That I make your life interesting,” she said smugly.

Klaus chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Oh, you make my life something, darling. Interesting isn’t quite the word I’d use.”

“Infuriating?” she suggested.

“Excruciating,” he corrected, though his smirk betrayed his words.

She laughed, leaning back against the sofa. “You know, you’re not nearly as scary as you think you are.”

Klaus’s smirk faltered, his expression sharpening. “Careful. I’d hate for you to forget who you’re dealing with.”

“Oh, trust me, Klaus,” she said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with. The big, bad hybrid. The original king of temper tantrums. The guy who’d rather punch his problems than deal with them like a normal person.”

“You’re testing my patience,” Klaus said, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Good,” she shot back. “Because you’re testing mine with all this brooding.”

Klaus chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “You’re relentless, I’ll give you that.”

“And you’re impossible,” she said, clinking her glass against his with a grin. “But somehow, we make it work.”

He took a sip of his wine, watching her over the rim of his glass. “Why do you insist on tormenting me?”

“Because it’s fun,” she said, shrugging. “And because someone needs to keep you from wallowing in self-pity. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Klaus scoffed, setting his glass down. “You truly have no survival instincts, do you?”

“Oh, I have survival instincts,” she said, smirking. “I’m just smart enough to know you won’t actually hurt me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Klaus muttered, though his tone was more amused than threatening.

She grinned, leaning closer. “Face it, Klaus. You’d be bored out of your mind without me.”

He leaned closer too, his voice low and dangerous. “And you’d be in over your head without me, love.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the tension between them crackling like the fire behind them. Finally, she broke the silence with a laugh, leaning back and raising her glass.

“Cheers to that,” she said.

Klaus shook his head, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable,” she shot back.

“I am never predictable,” Klaus said, his tone sharp.

She grinned, taking another sip of her wine. “Oh, you so are. But don’t worry—I’ll keep things interesting for you.”

Klaus chuckled, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “I have no doubt.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the firelight casting long shadows across the room. Klaus wouldn’t admit it—never in a thousand years—but she was right. Her presence did make things more interesting.

i love this one <3

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

as with part i, i have some repetitive strain and wasn't able to spend too long editing these - and had to take frequent breaks

All the action is happening upstairs - and no, we’re not (just) talking about Caden and Lilac. Avery soon joins Caden for a gossipfest, while Spencer is a little less subtle.

Rather understandably, Avery does not appreciate Spencer’s snooping, and things get rather heated between them (and not in the usual bedroom sense) before Spencer realises that Lilac is crying in the closet for some reason, then goes to comfort her.

Pauline confesses her attraction, then appears to feel embarrassed about it? 

Over dinner Spencer pries for secrets, and Lilac is not having it. However he tells her that he’ll keep her confidences, aaand she gains a nice sentiment towards him. I guess that being NOSY does pay?

By now I think that Lilac is feeling a little touched out. Avery gave her a hug, then likewise confessed their attraction towards her, resulting in the pair - oops - losing romance.

(Avery’s face, everyone. I can’t.)

At some point, Pauline (who you may remember has a relatively high singing level from karaoke night) serenades Lilac upstairs.

Sweet music aside, Lilac likewise didn’t seem to be feeling it when Caden confessed his attraction towards her. Given that she’s slept with both him and Avery by now, I’m not sure why this notion is so surprising and off putting. 

Then Spencer - who is never far from Lilac’s orbit - breaks in with a tall tale. Is he interrupting, attempting to lighten the mood, or porque no los dos?

And on top of all this, Lilac gains a sentiment from Caden? I don’t even know anymore.

The night ends slightly less confusingly. Lilac heads away from the sausagefest to kiss Pauline on the cheek, then returns her earlier serenade. Aubrey joins them, they agree that girls rule, boys drool…

…Only for Spencer to join her for a sleepover. Ms. Lilac not only allows him to stay, but they’re apparently high enough in both friendship and romance to unlock the bed cuddle animation.

Aubrey and Pauline are having a grand old time downstairs, but I agree with Lilac and Spencer. It's time for bed - though not before Avery autonomously unlocks the WEREWOLF ALLY trait from their reading of Beyond Big and Bad. Good for them.

@plasmafruittree @x-digitaldollhouse-x @mdshh

@invisiblequeen @sleepyselkiesims @akitasimblr

[elliereject]

creep .1

* in which you’re dragged to a frat party and spend most of it lingering in the corner, that is until a certain auburn-haired girl with unusually sharp canines appears next you and turns your night into something much more interesting.

* loserish!reader, vamp!ellie 😫, hemophilia if you squint, creepy ellie…duh, depictions of a singular graphic scene at the end, kissing, biting, heavy petting. that’s pretty much it lmk if I missed anything..nsfw in future chapter(s)

* this is one of the only things I’ve written recently that I’ve enjoyed writing and found decent so I hope u enjoy it, I’m glad I got this out before Halloween too, I’ve had vamp!ellie rattling around in my head a for a while, yk, fellow writers..I’d love to see..werewolf!abby..haha jk jk, unless 🫣..

*mdni

wc ~ 1k

pt 2. coming soon

“God, ★ can you go dance? It’s a fucking party loosen up!”

You held your red solo cup up to your “friend” and gave her an awkward smile. “I’m good over here!”

She sighed and rolled her eyes before slipping back into the sweaty crowd.

This was the most uncomfortable you’ve ever felt in your life.

It was a Saturday night; the chilly air, crunchy leaves, and overall mood of the season had deluded you into wanting to go out and socialize, so for the first time in a long time you agreed to attend a frat party with a “friend” you’d met in one of your classes.

It took you almost an hour to get ready, and as you reapplied your eyeliner for the fifth time you hoped that the saying “when you look good, you feel good” was true and you didn’t spend 20 minutes picking your outfit in vain.

Once you were ready, your “friend” picked you up from your dorm and the two of you walked over to the party, she was already a little tipsy from pre-gaming in her dorm with her roommate who was going to some other party so you had to make sure she didn’t stumble onto her face more than once.

The makeshift bouncer, a senior named Grey, or Grug or something gave you a once-over before looking at your friend who had to clarify you were with her, which definitely didn’t deflate your confidence.

Before you were even in the crowded, humid house, you knew you weren’t going to enjoy yourself, you never really did at parties if you were being honest, but you didn’t think your “friend” would ditch you to go grind her ass on some random chads and brads, yet here you were, nursing a cherry seltzer, and there she was, shaking ass.

Yay, college!

You were about to take another sip from your cup when a presence suddenly appeared beside you that made you jump out of your skin and caused your drink to slosh onto the already sticky floor.

“Shit! What the fuck?” You asked, looking up at the figure who seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“Fuck! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, you just looked bored.” She replied, her voice was gravelly and her eyes, the colour of jade. Her auburn hair was cut short and freckles were scattered across her face. Safe to say she was hot. “I can go get you another drink?”

You waved it off, “It’s fine, it wasn’t that good anyways. Plus I should probably pay more attention to my surroundings, even if I am bored.”

She hummed out a sound of understanding, “Not your scene?”

You shrugged, “Not really,” you eyed her outfit, blue jeans with a green flannel and a brown leather jacket, converse. “Doesn’t seem like yours either.”

“Really? Cause I like just made out with Bryson in the storage closet, it was suuuupper hot.” She said, pointing a ringed finger to a blond dude clad in a football jersey who was currently shoving his tongue down a blonde girl's throat.

You allowed yourself a small smile, hot and funny? Yikes.

“Pretty sure his name is Brickson, but close enough.”

“What the fuck kind of name is Brickson?” She laughed, “Did a brick fall on his head after he was born or some shit?”

You shrugged before smiling, fully, “Judging by how flat the top of his looks? Probably.”

She snorted at this and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, you made this hot, funny, cool girl laugh, you!

“Hey, so don’t freak out but that guy’s been staring at you for the past 10 minutes.” She said, flicking her head in the direction of said guy.

You turned your head to look at him, he wasn’t..unattractive. He was muscular and had on a sports jersey that seemed to small for his build, his hair was cut into a messy mullet and when he met your gaze he…winked.

You cringed and looked back at the cool girl, “I hope he doesn’t think anything’s gonna happen, he’s not really my type.”

She gave you a knowing smile before asking, “And what exactly is your type?”

You shrugged, “Preferably someone with boobs.”

She sighed, “Can’t relate, I love penis.”

You gave her a pointed look and she laughed, “What? Not believable?”

You rolled your eyes, “Not in the slight—“ your eyes widened as they looked past her shoulder. “Shit, he’s walking over here.”

“Wanna do something crazy then?” She asked quickly, her jade eyes meeting yours and you found yourself nodding before she even finished her sentence. Hell, you’d bark if she asked you to. “Just follow my lead.”

Her large hand wrapped around your waist while her other found purchase on your neck, before you could think her lips were on yours. Slightly chapped but soft and enticing, kissing her was easy and you felt like you could do it forever.

Her skin was so cold you could feel it through your clothes. Your mind was completely encapsulated by her presence and just as you were starting to get used to it, she pulled away.

You thought whatever moment the two of you shared was over but you were wrong. Her lips trailed along your jaw, and her grip on your waist tightened. The hand that had been holding your neck was now on your hip, caressing back and forth with tenderness that had your thighs clenching, wanting more.

Each kiss felt like a snowflake melting into your skin until she was down to your neck. She kissed and nibbled on it before pausing.

“What’s wr—Ow! What the hell? Did you just–bite me?”

She chuckled after pulling away, “Never gotten a hickey before?”

You went quiet, because, well you haven’t but you’re sure it didn’t result in genuine blood trickling out of one’s body.

You traced your fingers over the mark and winced, it was most definitely going to leave a scar. She must’ve seen the discontentment on your face because she spoke up.

“Don’t worry, it’ll heal up quickly, you won’t even notice there was something there by tomorrow.” Her eyes clung to drops of blood dribbling down your neck.

You scoffed, “Let me guess, you’ve done this before?”

“Kind of.” She shrugged after what looked like reluctantly peeling her eyes away from your neck. “That guy’s gone though, must’ve scared him off.”

You smiled at her, “Must’ve been my presence, I can be pretty intimidating.”

She laughed loudly at this and you felt your confidence inflate once again. So much so, that the idea of asking for her number even popped into your head. But it was overtaken by more rational thoughts,

What if she thought you were weird? That you were moving to quick? Or what if she was just looking for someone to take home tonight, which you wouldn’t be opposed to but—

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” You asked sheepishly, you can’t believe you spaced out in front of her, you could’ve sworn she was hypnotizing you with her laugh or something.

“You do need to pay more attention to your surroundings,” She said, giving you a small smile, “Never know what kind of creeps are lurking around at these parties.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m sure I can hold my own against a Chad or a Brittney.”

“I’m sure you could but—“ The music that had previously been wafting through the room turned up abruptly and you’d missed the last part of what she said.

“What?!” You shouted, putting your hand up to cup your ear.

She chuckled softly and leaned down so her lips were practically grazing the shell of your ear, the smell of mint, whiskey, and something metallic filled your senses.

When she spoke, a shiver racked through your body, “But if it was someone a little smarter? More discreet? If they snuck up beside you and covered your mouth? Or slipped something in your drink? Pulled you away? Would anybody notice, would anybody care?”

You pushed her away, her cool, easy going demeanor suddenly shifting into something eerie and uncomfortable. Her jade eyes gazed at you curiously as a blood-curdling shriek ripped through the house.

She jutted her thumb over her shoulder, “That’s my cue. See you around, ★.” She said, giving you a genuine smile, and it was just now you finally noticed her unusually sharp canines.

You gazed down at your drink as others pushed and shoved around, scrambling to get out of the house, away from all the horror.

And as you pulled a small scrap of paper out of your empty cup, 10 numbers and a name scrawled across it in red ink; you finally looked up to see your friend's lifeless body sprawled across the living room floor, her limbs bent in odd angles.

Yay, college!

[gamerbearmira]

heya again <3

so...i got some more giftless grandkids thoughts here, written in bullet points because my brain just kept going AHAHHAHA

I’m currently listening to the vocal mashup of the grandkids of waiting on a miracle while im going through the giftless grandkids tag as im taking a break from other aus, it’s very fun and sets the mood somehow AHHAHHA

I’m really glad they have each other and are thriving even without their gifts, and they likely already got used to not having gifts and wouldn’t care, and that’s so real of them

The mashup is making me think of some things tho, ngl AHHAHAH

But anyway, yes, I currently have many thoughts

Was thinking about the reasons for why Casita would crack and fall, considering the kids are close with each other here and the adults (minus Alma oof) are all there supporting them, Bruno included since he never went to the walls

And as I read some of your posts and think about it more, it makes sense

There are several main things that would make Casita crack here—aka the family themselves cracking—would be:

Ofc, there’s still Alma’s pressure on the triplets and her confusion and unintentional hurt towards the grandkids

Most likely how Julieta is hiding the big secret on why they didn’t get their gifts and also their doorknobs

Another is how Pepa and Bruno are also hiding the vision tablet from everyone but specifically Julieta

Still trying to think of other reasons, but those are the main ones, I think

In canon, Bruno had been patching up the cracks, which definitely helped Casita stay up longer, but he never went to the walls here, so how would Casita and the family last until a little after Antonio’s ceremony (assuming we’re still going with something similar to canon timeline)?

Here is where the kids’ good relationships come in, their love and care are helping hold things together, even without Bruno repairing the cracks

The process of Casita cracking would be slower here compared to canon

So what happens when the kids—the main reasons for Casita still being able stand—are faced with the revelation that they could have gotten their gifts back then? Could have possibly avoided a lot of heartache and ridicule and disappointment from the people around them? And the reason they didn’t are because of the adults? Because of Julieta?

They hyperfocus on the bad parts, overshadowing the good parts because its an intense and shocking moment and revelation for them, I think

In the moment of the revelation, that’s likely going to upset them, maybe even break them a little, because why? Why did they—? 

Of course, they’ll later have the full realization that they grew up happier without the gifts, but again, that’s later

Also, pretty sure they focus more on the fact that it seemed like the adults they trusted lied and deceived them in a sense, almost like a betrayal (except ofc its not)

This, too, would connect to how Julieta says in that one giftless grandkids art of yours, “I didn’t want to hurt them—to hurt anyone.”

And then, with the love faltering for a moment, that’s how Casita falls apart

Also, why am I imagining the kids finding the vision tablet that Pepa and Bruno are likely hiding, making them realize what Julieta is hiding, which then starts the realizations, arguments, and full-on cracking of Casita?

This would then parallel canon with Bruno’s vision too

This means we get to see all the kids trying to figure things out together too

After everything, I can really see Julieta and the rest of the adults gifting the kids their doorknobs again as a surprise—which they will later use to get their gifts too AHAHHAHA YEAHHH

Anywho, ye, just some thoughts I have hehe <33

Literally listened to that bop today so real 😭😭

ANYWAY. Y'all might not now, but Mic here as been helping me in world building for this au 🤭🤭 its gonna be one of the next fics I do, since Mamabel and Werewolf are finished (will be updating today after I finish Mama Isa. And if my wifi will let me <\\\3)

ANYWAY THESE IDEAS?? ARE SO RAD...Triplets being in the spotlight because the grandkids have no gifts, its so sad. But honestly, Alma is just pushing them because she needs to prove that the miracle is ok. Implying that the kids did something. Subtle, but whatever.

Also, the kids are like Mirabel in canon, constantly trying to prove themselves and helping out around town. Meanwhile there's a certain group of villagera who don't even like them. Not all the villagers, but definitely a good chunk. There may or may not be a rather crude mural somewhere in town out of the way. But there :(

But anyway. The kids do have hobbies relating to their gifts! The husbands, feeling guilty, gave the kids presents, gifts to give them something to do since Alma couldn't "assign" them anything (which they were grateful for).

Isabela got some gardening gloves and tools, and is really into gardening and farming, and is always tending to her garden or helping out with the farmers in town. She also tends to all the plants in Casita. Dolores loves to play music, and after Félix gave her first guitar, she was hooked. She has tons of instruments, and actually taught Mirabel to play the accordion; she helps with entertainment, like Camilo. Agustín got Luisa some dumb bells, she actually asked for them. She wanted to strong and still help out, and regulating exercises and mostly helps out with packing and loading or at the quarry.

Camilo was give some costumes and puppies, and he's been into performances and theater since. He also performs for the kids, and plays alongside Dolores often. Mirabel was given new sewing stuff. Instead of Alma teaching her most of what she knew, Agustín helped her, since he knew some, and she kept the fashion and crafts hobby up. She helps repair things around town, and does the occasional clothing repair. Antonio still is finding his hobby, but the grandkids know he really loves animals. They actually suggested Félix get him a pet. So what does he get him? A parrot. Antonio loves that parrot like no other, and he's always around him, trailing behind Luisa.

DESIGNS 🌚🙏🙏 I'll post the family tree later, and maybe draw the triplets because their designs changed but me and Mic are still working in them. But the kids❗❗ Their clothes are very plain and dull, because the seamstress refused to make their clothes any fun. Even Mirabel can only embroider so much, and she rarely has time to do so cause she's so busy helping. But there's some subtle designs <33

Julieta really did and does mean well in this au, but drastic actions really do cause drastic results in some cases. Her pull those doorknobs was definitely drastic. While the kids are happier and aren't nearly as pressured, they feel inadequate, and like something is missing :(( And then there's vision tablet (that's like over 40 years old 💀), but that's a whole other can of worms.

ANYWAY. AO3 HOPEFULLY LATER MY WIFI IS :((( Also I'll be posting the finished storyboards for the WOOM animatic I'm working on, and then I'll also post the rough video put together with it. SHOUTOUT TO @thefourchimes FOR HELPING ME WITH THIS SHE'S SO COOL <333 should tote check out her aus, they're so cool. ψ(｀∇´)ψ

[seungfl0wer]

Get To Know Me

Since I have so many of you beautiful here and I’m just Ina mood to talk. Here’s a small get to know me!

•I enjoy cooking/baking a lot.

•I’m a baker/barista

•I’m a whore for animals😂 let me rephrase that. I love animals a lot. I could tell you facts about almost any animal.

•I’ve been writing since I was young. I use to love writing poems a lot. Especially back in my emo days lol.

•My favorite thing to write even back then was werewolf stuff.

•I had an old blog way back called forever-young-got7. At one point that blog sat at a pretty 15K followers😭 so if you know me from there hi!

•I’ve been in this kpop game since- well I’m old so since I was 14 so like since 2010? God I’m fucking old bro-

•I’m a huge multi Stan however I don’t keep up with many groups anymore besides skz.

•Some of my favorites though are Ateez, Seventeen, Astro, Itzy, Ikon and many more of course got7 as well.

•I’m a big anime nerd too, again have been for awhile😂

•Some of my favorites are: JJK, Death Note, Chainsaw Man, Full metal, Blue exorcist and Naruto ofc lol.

•I’m a big foodie too, I absolutely love trying foods from other countries or just different foods in general.

•I have 4 piercing? My lip, industrial, double helix and both my lobes.

•I really want my tongue done!

•I currently only have one tattoo, but really really want lots more.

•Uhm I wouldn’t say I’m a vegetarian but I don’t like meat much. Especially beef bleh.

•I’m also super short I’m only 5’1 but I’ll bite your kneecaps don’t play with me lol.

•I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD and technically a learning disability since I was like 8. Not medicated. So like that’s what’s happening rn lol. Yall are just getting me rambling.

I think I’ll leave this hear, if yall ever have any questions about me or anything in general please don’t be afraid to ask! I’m an open book and will literally tell you anything!

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Soul Bound-7

Team Jacob or Edward

_________________________________________________________

Team Jacob or Edward? 

“Aww, I think it was so cute that you said that!” Caroline, Bonnie, Sophia and I sat at a little table on campus going over the date I had with one of Mystic Falls most eligible bachelors.

I rolled my eyes. I had royally embarrassed myself. Even Sophia had facepalmed when I told her that had come tumbling out of my clumsy mouth. 

“Men like to know where they stand. If Elijah didn’t want to see you again then he would have told you no, to your little, “It’s a date.” comment.” Bonnie seemed very confident in her answer. She was a new addition, one I really liked, might I add. She’d known the other two for years, but Sophia and I found her light hearted and kind. 

Everyone in this little town seemed to be connected and have some history with one another. It was odd at best. A lot of them seemed to date each other too at some point. 

“So Sophia, can anyone peak your interest?” Caroline asked her, bumping subtle into her shoulder to physically nudge her on.  My sister laughed and tossed her natural beach waves blonde locks. 

“Nah, he wasn’t interested in me. I’m a free bird right now.” She said, I could hear the disappointment. 

“Not a bad thing.” Bonnie added, seemingly genuinely pleased to hear of Sophia singleness. “You can see whoever you want whenever you want.” She added. 

  That was honestly more in tune with Sophia’s philosophy on love. 

“What about all of you?” Sophia asked, putting the other girls on the spot. I am enjoying myself now.  

“I’m seeing Damon.” Elena said, taking a big sip of her drink. I felt the energy shift slightly. Caroline looked irritated then turned her attention back to me. 

I looked at Sophia. There was history there. She’d caught it too. 

“So has he texted or called you since? It’s been what…four days?” Bonnie asked me. I laughed. She really was invested in this. 

“I texted him yesterday telling him I hoped he had a good day. Klaus had come into the coffee shop  to chat with me while I worked and mentioned something about him being moody and business in New Orleans.” I commented off handedly. 

“Ohh.” The girls said in unison. I hated being on the spot like that. 

“He just texted that he was looking forward to Saturday. I dunno, maybe I overstepped.” I added hastily. I had honestly felt awful about his response since. 

“So do you think there is a supernatural bond between you two?” Bonnie asked again, grilling me with more questions.

 “My grandma says the bouchard are pretty strong witches in their own right.” I knew about the Bennetts. You didn’t mess with them. 

I scoffed. The Bouchards hadn’t had power, not like what she was thinking for over sixty years. We were dwindling wiccans at best. 

“I dabble with my mom.” Sophia said getting the attention heaped back on her. I was grateful for that.

“Not you Gina?” Elena had thrown me off. I smiled tightly. I really hated taking about this. 

“I prefer science and logic over magic.” I hoped my comment and low tone would stop the conversation. I had been enjoying myself. 

“So you don't believe in doppelgangers or soul mates then?” The brunette was fishing hard, like with dynamite. 

“Elena.” Caroline scolded her quickly and from what I could tell kicked at her under the table. “Ouch!” 

“Not really I don’t.” I said. I was ready to leave even though college was done for me and Sophia for the day. The only thing keeping me was my sister who loved to talk about such silly things. 

“I do.” Sophia piped up sounding extremely interested. I would have kicked her only if I knew she’d kick back. 

“We’ll chica you moved to the wrong town then.”  Caroline's statement got the other to giggle and laugh like a pack of hyenas. She said it nicely but I was getting into one of my moods. 

“So do you like any supernatural trope? I see you read fiction." Bonnie asked Sophia and I. Her head turned to us both. 

“Like werewolf love stories..?” Caroline asked, looking at us both. 

“Or vampires?” Bonnie laughs. 

There was a joke here and it was at my expense. I could feel it. I sighed out loud. Sophia laughed at me.

“Oh, come on! I like witches and werewolves. Maybe the occasional hunter story where they fall in love with the supernatural they’d usually go after.” Sophia’s comment was garnering a lot of interest. Not enough unfortunately to save me from Caroline, Bonnie and Elena’s curious gazes. 

“We'll I will play this silly little game if I have too. I would think of vampires over werewolves.”  One just seemed a bit more glamorous then the other. 

“Interesting….why” Caroline asked. I could tell she was enjoying my answer .

“Dog hair, I don't need it on the couch.” I answered.

The girls giggle hysterically. 

__________________________________________________

[spideyjimin]

i’m so angry. oooh, i could punch a wall!!!! i hope jk’s dad rots in his grave. god, i hate that man and their blinded beliefs. they’re so stupid, it’s insane. imagine they’re believing in “luna, the mood goddess of the wolves,” etc., and the same goddess creates hybrids just for the werewolves to act like nazis and execute them as if they had any fucking right to do that. didn’t anyone stop to think that maybe the goddess wants the hybrids to live too? to become bigger, so that werewolves can become bigger hybrids, or not, because they’re still werewolves in the end? god, i almost threw up when i read, “dohee’s expression now fully changes. she wasn’t expecting that, so she’s now very happy for her brother to have a pure-blood kid.” like, excuse me? you’re only happy because you weren’t aware that she was a human, and the fact that they spoke so carelessly about the baby made me see red. no, seriously, i wish something happens to their own children, even jisoo’s, maybe the younger ones, so she and her dumb daughter can understand the pain of what people have to go through when their loved ones are being killed by the same species they thought they could trust. fucking ridiculous, sitting at that table and acting like they didn’t end two people’s lives, and even the child’s, but have the audacity to grieve a fucking monster who was the one who made the call? girl, i would f up his whole graveyard. 😡

I’m sorry, I’m just really emotional right now. Your story is absolutely amazing! But I can’t help but feel overprotective of the OC and the baby 😔, especially since they’re so innocent in all of this. I’m so excited for the next chapters and really hope she can handle that disgusting mother-in-law 🙃🧡

hi angel ✨ i totally understand your point, but it’s kind of a touchy subject for the entire family and the werewolf community. like the rule is simple, hybrids can’t exist to keep the bloodline pure. actually, dohee, jk’s sister, she’s happy for her brother no matter what but she’s mostly scared of what can happen to him. yes, he’s the king but that doesn’t make him immune to the rules.

BUT next chapter, i’m convinced you’ll change your mind about jk’s father 👀 you’ll have to tell me afterwards if it’s the case 🤗

but back to this chapter, the important thing to understand is that the king represents the authority and if he’s the first one to break the rules, it doesn’t make any sense. he’d loose any credibility. however, due to what is happening to jk and oc, he’s willing to fight for her, even if it means loosing his title.

i’m glad you’ll protect oc and her baby, because they for sure are innocent! ❤️ thank you so so much for reading & for this ask, i deeply appreciate your support 💞💞

[writingsofwerewolves]

I'm working on a bit of a werewolf horror story. Here's the first bit. Very rough. Not edited. But thought I'd share.

Gore warning. And later the story is gonna have some shifted werewolf sex that's extremely noncon because this shit is gonna be dark.

Fair warning, I'm not a horror writer so don't expect the tension and stuff to be like... good. But still, I'm having fun and that's what matters.

Chapter 1

“These tunnels were used during the Civil War,” Josephine enthused, her voice echoing ominously against the stone walls, “I can’t believe no one’s been down here since then.”

“I can,” Gunther wrinkled his nose, “It reeks.”

Josephine inhaled deeply, a smile on her face, “It smells like history to me. Rich history. Just think of how many people used these passageways to escape the south two hundred years ago.”

“Can they help me escape the south now?” Jayce muttered in a voice that was clearly meant to be quiet and unheard but with the small space, it carried through the tunnel.

“Mood,” Talia replied wearily, “Josie, we should turn around before we get lost.”

“We won’t get lost,” she held up her smart phone, “I’m drawing out every turn we take. Relax, guys.”

The group pressed on, following the light of Josephine’s flashlight ahead of them. The tunnels were dark, musty, and damp. Each step echoed strangely around them in the tight space.

“Whoa, hold on,” Jayce breathed, “Shush.”

Everyone quieted and Josephine turned back to look at them, “What?”

“Do you hear that?” Jayce asked.

The group was silent, straining their ears. There was the sound of footsteps, soft but close. Josephine moved the flashlight to look around urgently.

“Hey, where’s Aaron?” she asked.

Talia said, “He’s right behind—” she broke off when she turned and saw no one was there. “Fuck. Aaron!” she called.

“Quiet!” Jayce hissed in a low whisper, their eyes full of concern, “I think something’s down here.”

“You-you’re being paranoid, Jay,” Josephine shook her head, though her voice sounded unsteady, “We better find Aaron though. He’s supposed to be filming.”

“You’re probably just hearing Aaron,” Gunther pointed out to Jayce, “Where’s the sound coming from?”

Jayce pointed a shaking finger down one of the tunnel’s branches.

“Then let’s go,” Josie said, leading the way.

The new tunnel was a tighter squeeze, forcing them to go in a single file. Josephine led the way confidently, her phone in one hand and her flashlight in the other. Jayce stuck close at her back, their own flashlight held tightly in their shaking hand. Gunther, the largest of the bunch, had to shimmy sideways through parts the smaller tunnel, slowly him down and creating a small gap between him and Jayce as he struggled to keep up. Talia brought up the rear, using her phone as a flashlight to keep glancing behind her, having the strange feeling that she was being watched.

The tunnel had a lot of curves, but no branches off it, giving the group no chance to change directions. Either they had to continue forward or turn back. And Josephine was no where near ready to turn back.

“Aaron!” she called, “Come on, this isn’t funny.”

No one responded.

“We should go home,” Jayce whispered fearfully.

“We have to at least find Aaron first,” Gunther pointed out.

“And besides,” Josephine began, “We’re nearly—oh!”

She broke off as suddenly the tunnel opened up ahead of them, into a large circular room. Josephine stepped into it, Jayce right at her back, as she looked around in awe. It was fairly dark, but the surprisingly tall ceiling had a grate in the center, opening up to the sky. Filtered sunlight trickled down into the center of the room, on to a raised surface.

Gunther was farther behind and Josephine already had begun examining the room with interest when he sgtepped in, Talia a few steps behind him.

“I don’t think we should be here,” Talia whispered, remaining in the tunnel, eyeing the room anxiously, “It seems—” her words broke off into a scream when she felt something grab her from behind.

Her scream startled the whole group. Jayce, who had kept themself pressed close to Josephine, lost their footing and fell with a yelp onto the raised surface in the center of the room. The yelp became an exclaimation of pain.

“Oh, shit,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the tunnel.

“Aaron!” Talia pulled out of his grip and slapped his arm, “The fuck?”

“Sorry,” Aaron said sheepishly, a camcorder held in one hand, aimed at Talia’s face, “I thought it’d make a funny video.”

“Jayce,” Josephine breathed, rushing to their side, “Are you okay?”

“No,” they groaned, pushing themself up into a sitting position on the raised center and clutching their hand.

“Shit,” Gunther said, opening his pack and pulling out supplies, “You’re bleeding. What happened?”

“I fell onto this thing,” they pointed at the surface they sat on, “Something sharp went into my hand. It… ah…”

Talia moved closer and looked at the object. It looked like a metal grate with raised walls.

“Is this a well?” Talia asked as Gunther tended to Jayce’s injured hand.

“Looks like it,” Josephine said, looking down into it. She shined her flashlight into it. Jayce’s blood was on the grate, dripping down into the deep hole. With the light, Josephine and Talia were able to see dark shapes. Rocks, they thought, at the bottom.

“No water down there,” Josephine remarked, “Not anymore, at least.”

She looked up, at the grate in the ceiling.

“Strange. I wonder if people lived here,” she said, beginning to shine her flashlight around the room, “Maybe this wasn’t just for transit. Maybe it—fuck!”

She dropped her flashlight, clutching her chest.

“What?” Talia asked urgently, moving to Josie’s side and helping her steady herself on her feet.

Josie pointed a shaky finger across the room, “I thought I saw something move.”

Talia lifted her phone, shining its flashlight in that direction and gasped herself. There was a dark lump and with the movement of the light, it did look like it was moving itself. A second of observation, however, reassured Talia that it indeed was not moving.

“What is that?” Aaron asked, aiming his camera at it as Talia took tentative steps forward.

“It looks like… fur,” Talia breathed, moving closer.

“Careful!” Aaron warned, “Might be a bear!”

“These tunnels have been locked up for over a hundred years,” Josie pointed out, “Even if it was a bear, it’s dead now.”

Talia continued to step towards it. It was indeed fur. A lot of fur. Black fur. Without thinking, she reached out her hand and pressed it against the figure.

She let out a long breath as she felt stiffness beneath her hand. The fur itself was soft, but the flesh below was hard. Dead.

“Gross,” Aaron said, making sure his camera was catching all of it.

Talia felt overwhelming sadness as she stroked the dead creature’s fur. A poor creature had wandered into the tunnel, gotten stuck, and died. Alone. Starving. Never to be seen again.

“We need to go,” Gunther said, helping Jayce to their feet once their hand was wrapped, “Jayce needs to go to a hospital. There’s no telling what type of infection they could get from that.”

“But—” Josephine began to protest. A firm look from Gunther had her shutting her mouth, “Fine. Come on, Talia.”

Talia didn’t move, her hand still buried in the fur of the creature.

Aaron rolled his eyes and grabbed Talia’s arm, “Let’s go, beautiful.”

Talia looked back longingly as she was dragged into the tunnel, away from the hunk of black fur. She didn’t know why. It was just a dead animal. But she didn’t want to leave it.

“We’ll be back,” Josephine called as she lead the way through the tunnel, “There’s a lot more to find down here and I want credit for it all.

Chapter 2

“Did you hear?” Josephine asked as she collapsed onto her bed.

Talia sighed and looked away from her laptop, “Hear what?”

“A bunch of hunters were killed in the woods last night. Serves them right, hunting innocent deer. But it’s got everyone on campus thinking there’s a bear or something causing trouble. They’re implementing a curfew.”

“That’ll certainly mess up our plans,” Talia frowned deeply, closing her laptop and spinning her chair to face Josephine, “We’re still going, right?”

“Of course. Once I can get Gunther and Jayce on board. We’re just going to have to be careful who sees us leaving.”

“Jayce won’t come. Not after what happened. They’re lucky they didn’t lose a hand.”

Josephine shrugged, “It wasn’t that bad.”

Talia rolled her eyes, “Sure. If Jayce doesn’t come, I doubt Gunther will. It might just be us.”

“And Aaron.”

“Really?” Talia wrinkled her nose, “Why him?”

“He has a camera.”

“We all have cameras. They’re called cell phones.”

“Not with enough storage to record everything. Not unless we’re livestreaming and I didn’t get any reception down there. We need a real camera.”

“Fine,” Talia sighed, “When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Night?”

“I have classes all day. It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so…”

~

“And another right…” Josephine said, leading the way through the tunnels.

“Maybe I should take the lead,” Aaron suggested.

“Josie’s the one that recorded the path,” Talia reminded him.

“Yeah, but she’s not good with directions.”

Josephine turned back to glare at him, “Since when?”

“It’s a biological fact,” he shrugged, “Women aren’t good with directions.”

Talia and Josie exchanged weary looks before Josephine returned her attention to the instructions she’d written on her cell phone, “I’ve got it for now. Thanks.”

With Aaron bringing up the rear, his camera on and recording, the group made their way through the tunnels. Josephine moved quicker once they found the skinny tunnel that they were looking for and before too long, they were there.

The circular room opened up before them, the moonlight trickling down from the grate in the ceiling.

“That’s… different,” Josie said, moving towards the well in the center of the room. The grate covering it was open.

“None of you came down here after we left, right?” Josie asked, shining her flashlight down the opened well.

“No,” Talia confirmed, lifting her phone to shine its light around the room, “Uh… where’s the bear?”

Aaron shifted the camera around, searching the room. There was nothing.

“What if it wasn’t dead?” Aaron whispered, “Maybe it opened the grate. Probably smelled Jay’s fresh blood on it.”

“It was stiff,” Talia shook her head, “It couldn’t… I mean… I touched it and it didn’t move. It was cold.”

Josephine let out a shiver and pulled her jacket tighter around her body, “I think we should go.”

“What?” Aaron demanded, “You’re the one that wanted to come back.”

She swallowed hard and shook her head, “I know, but… something feels wrong.”

“Yeah,” Talia agreed, “Come on.”

The group made their way hurriedly through the tunnels again, Aaron still following behind with the camera.

“Hold up,” he called, stopping and getting down on one knee, aiming the camera at the ground.

The two women backtracked to join him.

“Is that a bear paw print?” he asked, the camera buzzing as he adjusted its focus to bring the imprint better into view.

“Might be,” Josie breathed, putting her hand over it without touching it, “It’s huge.”

“Not a bear,” Talia said in a whisper, “Bears have more toes. That looks… canine.”

Aaron looked up at her, “Canine? Like a wolf?”

She shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Wolves don’t get that big,” Josie argued, “It’s like a foot long…”

“All I know is it’s not a bear,” Talia said defensively, “And… we should get outta here.”

“Right,” Aaron agreed, “Move.”

The group continued their hurried journey to the surface. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief when they were free of the musty air.

“My car’s this way,” Josephine said, beginning to lead the way through the trees.

Aaron walked beside Talia, his camera strapped to his back.

“So any plans this weekend?”

“I have a few papers to write,” she replied, “You?”

“I just thought maybe we could do something together,” he shrugged, “The bowling alley’s open again. You like bowling, right?”

“Kinda. I’m not very good,” she admitted sheepishly, “I haven’t played since I was a kid and they put the gutters up.”

He grinned, “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”

“Oh,” she replied, her voice going slightly higher, “That’s… kind of you. Like I said, though, I’m busy this weekend.”

“Sure, sure,” he waved a dismissive hand, “Next weekend maybe.”

“Maybe,” she agreed tensely, “My workload is pretty big this semester though.”

“Well, maybe we could study together and--”

He broke off when a scream ahead of them interrupted his words.

“Josie?” Talia called, breaking into a run to catch up to her friend.

As the pair ran, Aaron quickly readied his camera, turning it on. They found Josephine, who was standing still, her body vibrating as she looked ahead of her.

Talia followed her gaze and saw, leaning against a tree, a bloodied human figure.

“Oh, fuck,” Aaron breathed, his camera buzzing as it zoomed in.

“We must’ve passed him on our way in,” Josie breathed shakily, “But we didn’t look back so we didn’t see…”

“Is he dead?” Aaron asked.

“Go check,” Talia hissed, holding Josie’s shoulders comfortingly.

“Why me?” Aaron demanded.

“Go!” Talia repeated.

“Fine,” he grumbled, camera aimed at the figure as he took tentative steps closer. Once he was near, he saw the state the body was in. One arm was missing, a chunk was taken from a leg, and its neck was barely more than a giant gaping wound. “Definitely dead. Oh… huh…”

He knelt down, the camera focusing on the ground near the body.

“What is it?” Talia called.

Aaron looked over his shoulder at the women and said darkly, “A giant paw print.”

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –

[maria021015]

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR CHAPTER 37!

“Oh, thank God you’re alive!” Stiles sighed in relief when Scott finally answered one of the several phone calls he’d sent in the past twenty minutes. “What happened?”

“Boyd was in there with Derek’s little sister, Cora. Erica…Erica’s dead. You guys were right - it was a trap. When we dropped into the vault it was sealed with mountain ash-” Scott began but at that, Zaida had to interrupt him.

“Mountain Ash? But that means there must be a human working with the alphas. Supernaturals can’t set Mountain Ash.” She pointed out.

“They probably have an emissary,” Peter spoke up from the couch he was currently lying on.

“What’s an emissary?” Stiles’ brows furrowed in confusion.

“Druids - kind of like a witch. They give packs advice.” The alpha explained drolly.

“How did you get out?” Zaida asked Scott.

“Allison showed up and broke the mountain ash, and Boyd and Cora got free. We’re tracking them down now. We think they’re headed for the Preserve.” The werewolf answered.

“Allison? Why the hell was Allison there?” Zaida interjected once more.

“She tracked the bank logo from the symbol that girl bruised into her and Lydia’s arms and broke in. Derek totally bit her head off about breaking the barrier to save us, and he told her I was lying to her about what happened the night her mom died. I had to tell her the truth, and…oh God, she probably hates me.” The boy mumbled sadly over the speakerphone.

“Scott, she could never hate you. You know how Allison gets, she’ll be pissed off and in a mood for a bit but she’ll get over it…in ten to twelve business years.” Zaida snickered at her own joke, failing at her attempt to be supportive.

“Okay, we can talk about Scott’s tragic love life later. For now, let’s focus on the bloodthirsty killing machines, please.” Stiles scolded them with a roll of his eyes.

“Where abouts are you guys? I’ll meet you there.” Zaida offered immediately, wanting to get in on the action. She’d sat by idly enough tonight.

“Zaida…it’s dangerous enough for us, and we can heal faster than you. You’re not ready.” Scott told her hesitantly, knowing she wouldn’t react well.

“I won’t ever be ready if you never give me a chance to be!” She protested with a glower even though he couldn’t see her face.

“I’ll keep you guys updated, okay?” Scott promised and then hung up, not giving her room to beg him even more.

“He severely underestimates you, little nymph.” Peter tutted from his position on the couch.

“What do you know?” She scoffed at him rhetorically.

“I know quite a bit about your kind. My sister, Thalia, once knew a nymph - a nereid. A beautiful woman. She looked a bit like you, actually.” Peter hummed and assessed her with analytical eyes. “Her name escapes my memory, though.”

“I-” Zaida was speechless for the first time that night. A nereid that had looked like her? Could it really be a coincidence? And was he even telling the truth or was he trying to bait her? But how else would he know that her mother was a nereid?

“And I bet a tasty piece of information about Zaida could jostle that name from your conveniently forgotten memory, right?” Stiles scoffed and pulled Zaida away from him protectively. “No thank you. We don’t want to play your game.”

“I think the little nymph would like to play.” Peter continued, unswayed by Stiles. “Hmm? What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you,” Zaida spat at him after a brief hesitation. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“How about you just show me something then? Just one little trick and I can tell you what you want to know about her, and about how Thalia knew her. I think you’d find that particularly interesting.” The scintillating man dangled the forbidden fruit in front of her with a serpentine grin.

“It’s not happening,” Stiles answered for her, noticing that tempted glint in her hazel eyes. He gripped her hand and pulled her further from the couch and into the opposite end of the loft. “He’s just trying to get you to show him your element.”

“What if he actually knows something?” She whispered now that they were alone.

“Maybe he does, but is it worth giving him what he so desperately wants? He wouldn’t offer it if it didn’t benefit him.” Stiles questioned in a low tone.

“I know that.” She insisted and forced her mind back on track. “Whatever. If Scott won’t let me help, I’ll call Isaac. I have a feeling they’re going to need backup tonight.”

“Yeah, call Isaac, I’m sure he’ll be incredibly helpful.” Stiles huffed and muttered under his breath bitterly, feeling an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

“Oh, stop your grouching.” She waved him off and lifted her phone to her ear, waiting until the werewolf picked up her call.

“If this is a late-night booty call-” He started and Stiles’ eyes widened in fury at her.

“Stop with the jokes before Stiles’ eyes pop out of his head.” She rolled her eyes. “Scott won’t admit it but he needs our help with something, so I need you to get to Derek’s as fast as you can to pick me up, and then we’re heading to the Preserve.”

“What’s happening at the Preserve?” Isaac immediately sobbed up, getting serious.

“Scott and Derek broke Boyd and that other girl out of the bank and now they’re loose on the town and completely out of control.” She explained.

“Okay, I’m heading there now.” He replied and she frowned.

“Wait, you’ve gotta come pick me up first.” She insisted.

“Zaida, I’m not taking you just so you can get torn into pieces.” The boy scoffed humorlessly.

“Hey, I fought you off once, don’t you remember? And that was before I knew how to use my powers.” She defended her abilities for the third time that night.

“I was also freshly turned, trying to restrain myself, and you had help, remember?” He shot back and she pouted when she couldn’t deny he was right. “It’ll be more dangerous if I take you with me. I’ll be more worried about keeping you safe than keeping myself alive. Just stay with Stiles.”

“I think that’s the first smart thing he’s ever said,” Stiles admitted begrudgingly.

“Ugh, the next time I see you both I’m going to kill you for benching me.” She growled into the receiver only to see another incoming call. “I’ve gotta go, Lydia’s calling.”

“Zaida?” The redhead’s voice was weak and she sounded as though she was either crying or on the verge of a panic attack.

“Woah, Lyds, what happened? Where are you?” Zaida was immediately distracted from the previous conversation, dropping everything to focus on her friend. “Are you alright?”

“No. I- I’m at the pool. There…” Her words were shaky as she tried to explain in her shocked state. “There’s a body.”

“A body?!” Stiles repeated, his spine straightening and his mind instantly going to the werewolves currently on the loose.

“Okay, we’re on our way,” Zaida assured her and gripped Stiles' arm, dragging him towards the main entrance to the loft. “Try and stay quiet and out of sight. Wait in your car if you can, and lock the doors.”

When she hung up the phone, she and Stiles exchanged concerned looks. What was Lydia doing at the pool at this time of night?

As Stiles continued to inspect the body and look for clues, and Lydia tried to look anywhere but at the crime scene, Zaida stepped away to call Allison. It was a strange impulse and not one she’d expected to feel when she stopped to think about what Scott had said about what had happened with the girl earlier. Truthfully she wasn’t even sure if the brunette would respond to her call. It was the first time Zaida had contacted her in months. She was almost too surprised to speak when the huntress did pick up and answered with a hesitant but hopefully greeting. “...Zaida?”

“Hey, Allison.” Zaida cleared her throat. “...Scott told me what happened at the bank, and I, uh…just wanted to see if you were okay and if you got home safe?”

“Oh, that’s…really nice of you.” Allison sounded equally as surprised as Zaida had felt when she’d answered. “Uh, yeah, I’m doing as well as a person who just found out their dead mother tried to kill their ex-boyfriend, making the whole revenge spree they went on completely meaningless.”

“So…not great then?” Zaida jested awkwardly and Allison gave a small chuckle. Zaida frowned when she heard the heavy clanking of metal in the background of the call. “What are you doing now?”

“Oh, nothing much,” The girl lied incredibly badly. “Just watching a movie at home.”

“Uhuh, right. Now what are you actually doing?” Zaida raised a brow, knowing something else was up. Silence answered her. “You’re getting ready to go help the boys round up Boyd and Cora, aren’t you?”

“Look, I already know what you’re going to say and-” Allison began to defend herself, thinking Zaida was about to try to dissuade her.

“I won’t tell anyone if you take me with you.” She interjected, seizing the opportunity that had just presented itself to her. “Come pick me up from the pool.”

“What are you doing at the pool?” Allison questioned as she finished loading up the gear in the back of her car and shut the boot with a loud thud.

“Lydia found a dead body,” Zaida explained and the line went silent once more. “She’s okay, just shaken up and traumatised, but then again what’s new about that.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” Allison agreed to the ultimatum the shorter girl had set down. She made it there in nine and Zaida was waiting on the street, hopping into the car eagerly as soon as it slowed to a stop. “Where’s Lydia?”

“As if I was going to bring her with us to a werewolf hunt. Especially after what she just went through.” Zaida scoffed. “She’s waiting with Stiles until the police show up.”

“I take it the boys didn’t want you involved either?” Allison raised a brow as she pulled back out onto the road and headed straight for the Preserve.

“I begged Scott and Isaac to take me to help and neither of them went for it.” She sighed in frustration. “Stiles wasn’t too happy about me leaving just now either, but he knows better than to try to stop me.”

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way because we would never get anywhere without your brain and determination, but what exactly are you going to do against two rabid werewolves?” Allison questioned.

“Oh, yeah I forgot you don’t know,” Zaida smirked and held up her hand with her palm facing the roof of the car, conjuring a swirling mist that grew into a spiral of water.

Allison’s doe eyes widened impossibly large and the car swerved, causing Zaida to lose control and drop most of the water over her own lap. She drifted her hand over her wet clothes and the residue evaporated into steam and disappeared into the air. “What the hell was that?!” Allison exclaimed in disbelief when she regained control of the vehicle.

“Tada!” Zaida wriggled her fingers in a show of sarcastic jazz hands. “I’m a nymph. A naiad, to be exact.”

“What does that even mean?” The huntress gawked at her, her gaze repeatedly flickering from the road to the girl in the passenger seat. “And since when?”

“To give you the four-one-one, as they say, I come from a long line of nature spirits. My mom was one too, which was why she and my dad were murdered by someone from their old pack - a werewolf. I, as you just saw, can manipulate water because I am a water spirit. It comes with a whole heap of other neat tricks too. Peter bit me the same night he bit Lydia and it sort of kickstarted or boosted my powers. I found out a few months ago, went on a quest for information and I’ve been training since. I’m getting pretty good too.” She explained the shortened version of events.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The huntress questioned. She knew things weren’t great between them at the moment, but they had been close once, after Zaida had been bitten.

“Don’t feel too bad. I didn’t tell anyone for a while. For a long time, it was just Stiles and I working on it, until Lydia found out about the supernatural and then it was just the three of us, until the end of summer when Stiles told Scott. Derek and Isaac saw me use my powers and found out themselves, and Peter already knew because he tasted it in my blood when he bit me. So yeah, you’re kind of the last person to know, but in case you didn’t notice, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms when I decided to come out about it.” Zaida drawled. “Plus, for a little bit, I thought you might kill me yourself if you found out.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Allison grimaced as she remembered pulling that crossbow trigger and sending a bolt flying straight into Zaida’s leg. The look of betrayal and pain on the girl’s face had been more than enough to haunt her afterwards. “I’m still really sorry about that.”

“Eh, I’m getting over it.” Zaida brushed it off with a casual wave of her hand. “Slowly. But if you do it again I’m coming for you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Allison’s lips quirked into the ghost of a smile at the joke and turned to park her car at one of the many entrances to the Preserve - the one in a direct line with the First Nation Bank. It was likely where Boyd and Cora had entered the Preserve. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you’d ever forgive me for what I did.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m still not entirely there yet, but I’m working on it.” Zaida admitted in a quiet voice and picked at her nails to avoid the thick blanket of tension that had settled over them. She hadn’t felt comfortable talking with Allison about anything too deep since it had all happened, but she found herself wanting to open up about it - wanting to work towards mending things. “To your credit, you did what I asked you to. You’ve pushed everything else away to work on being better, fighting those darker impulses. After taking some steps back and cooling down, I know it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were being groomed and manipulated, and I was angry and I said some things at the time that were…harsh.”

“You weren't wrong.” Allison pursed her lips. She hated the girl she had become under her family’s influence. “I deserved it.”

“You’re not like your aunt, Allison. Or your grandfather, for that matter.” Zaida assured her. “You were the first friend I made in this town. We’ve sure had our ups and downs, but…that does mean something to me. I miss that girl with the bright eyes and dimples, and the heart of gold.”

“So do I.” Allison swallowed dryly, her emotions rising and tears threatening to well in her eyes. “I haven’t felt like that girl in a long time. I thought that she was weak, and that I needed to become someone else to handle this world, but…I was wrong. She would never have done what I did to you, or what I did to Derek’s pack.”

“I’m not the same girl I was when I arrived in Beacon Hills either. What we went through was bound to change us.” Zaida spoke firmly but encouragingly. “You won’t ever be that girl again, just like I won’t. You’ve outgrown her, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing if you don’t let it.”

“You’re very wise, for a sixteen-year-old.” Allison wiggled her eyebrows playfully and in that moment there was a flash of the girl that had been her friend.

“Oh come on, don’t play the ‘year older card’.” Zaida laughed and rolled her eyes, unbuckling her seatbelt and throwing the car door open. Allison followed her lead and walked around to the boot of the car, opening it as Zaida peered inside to see stacks upon stacks of weapons and gear.

“You ready for this?” The huntress asked, looking at her with analytical eyes.

“Lead the way, Argent.” Zaida took a deep breath and nodded. “What’s the plan?”

The taller girl pulled her longbow and a sheath of arrows out, swinging both over her shoulder as she rummaged through the rest to pull out knives that she slid into various straps in her custom hunting clothing. She offered Zaida a pair of daggers, but the shorter brunette simply smiled and raised her palms to the sky, collecting multiple orbs of water that spread paper thin when she snapped her wrists inward. At Zaida’s will, they were sent flying straight into a neighbouring tree trunk, slicing straight through several inches of wood. “Thanks, but I’ve got my own.” She shrugged.

“That’s a neat trick,” Allison grinned, impressed. She continued to gear up. She shut her car boot and turned towards the treeline, starting their trek into the dark woods.

“How are we supposed to know where they are?” Zaida questioned.

“We won’t. That’s why we need to bring them to us.” The girl answered and pulled out a ring dagger, twirling it around her finger before cutting a slice into her wrist with barely a wince. She held it over the foliage below and allowed it to drip a trail as they walked deeper. “They’re still human, but their animal side is in control. We can use the scent of blood to lure them.”

“What’s their scent radius?” Zaida wondered aloud as her boots crunched over dry leaves, trying to make as much noise as possible to draw Boyd and Cora to them.

“About two miles,” Allison shrugged.

“And what’s the expanse of the Preserve?” Zaida asked with an arched brow, pointing out the vast amount of ground they would have to cover.

“That’s why we’re going to set up a trap area, and make all our blood tracks lead them right to it,” Allison explained.

Once they had hiked to a space they thought was suitable, the huntress taught Zaida how to set up multiple tripwires similar to the one they’d witnessed Scott get caught in all those months ago. “These are gonna suspend them in the air and hopefully keep them there long enough for us to incapacitate them.”

“How’s this?” Zaida asked as she set the last trap in place. Allison inspected it with a faint smile.

“Perfect. You’re a fast learner.” The girl nodded at her work in approval. “Or maybe I’m just a great teacher.”

“Don’t let your head get too big or it’ll make you an easy target.” Zaida dusted the dirt off her hands, feeling the chill of the night send goosebumps rippling up her bare arms and legs. She wasn’t expecting to be out in the elements when she had chosen this outfit. “Now what?”

“Now we trail blood, we wait, and we watch.” Allison handed her a pair of what looked like binoculars, but when Zaida peered through them at the girl, she could see they were clearly IR glasses, meant to track thermal signatures. “During a full moon, their body heat will be a lot hotter. It makes them easier to spot in the dark.”

When Allison brought her knife out once more to make another incision, Zaida offered her own wrist, but the girl shook her head. “You’ll heal too fast.” She reasoned and sliced into her own arm again, holding it out to bleed over the forest floor as they kept walking, Zaida using the glasses to scan the treeline. The air was filled with the sounds of nature - crickets chirping and birds cawing - along with the snapping of sticks beneath their heavy boots.

“What’s that noise?” Allison cocked her head as she listened for a gentle buzzing noise.

“Sorry, it’s my phone.” Zaida grimaced in apology and pulled the device from her pocket to see multiple messages from Stiles.

Sheriff Junior: Just asked Lydia what she was doing at the pool. She says she didn’t even realise she was driving there until she got out of the car. Just like when she resurrected Peter.

Sheriff Junior: Hey, are you still alive? Because if you’re not, I’m gonna kill you.

She quickly responded to his messages, assuring him that she was indeed alive and unharmed, and that whatever was happening with Lydia couldn’t be good news. She didn’t register the faint smile on her lips when she was replying to his concerns about her, but Allison did.

“So, you and Stiles are pretty close, huh? I mean you two always had some sort of… unspoken connection, but it’s more than that now, isn’t it?” The huntress prodded the subject carefully.

“Yeah, we’re pretty great friends, if that’s what you mean,” Zaida answered cautiously.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Allison smirked, taking Zaida’s avoidance of the subject as potential confirmation of her suspicions. Whilst they may be working on mending their friendship, Zaida wasn’t yet okay with talking about this with her. Hell, she hadn’t even spoken to Lydia about it yet - though that was largely because she didn’t want the redhead to feel awkward about the situation. Or for her to feel like Zaida resented her for it, because she didn’t.

“Are we lost?” Zaida questioned by way of changing the subject when she spotted a tripwire.

“No, I know where I’m going,” Allison assured her confidently.

“You’re sure we haven’t been going around in a circle? Because if not, and that tripwire over there isn’t ours, then there are other hunters out here.” The shorter girl identified tersely.

“I don’t think we’ve turned around…” The huntress didn’t sound as sure this time when she recognised the equipment as the exact same that they used. They ventured further only for a soft, glowing light emitting from through the brush to catch her eye. “Okay, that’s definitely not ours.”

“What is that?” Zaida questioned, moving closer through the foliage to a large metal stick embedded in the dirt. The top was pulsing with white light.

“They’re emitters - they send out signals that only werewolves can hear. We use them to corral them, like sheep dogs rounding up a herd.” Allison realised with a jolt. “This is our equipment. That means my dad’s out here.”

“I thought Papa Argent retired?” Zaida raised a brow.

“So did I,” Allison muttered under her breath, crouching down with her fingers brushing over the indent of dirt in the shape of a footprint. “He must be helping Scott.”

“How do you figure that?” The shorter girl leaned down to see what Allison was looking at.

“My dad wears heavy hunting boots. The prints would be deeper and wider. These are from sneakers,” Allison rationalised her deduction.

“But these are bigger than Scott’s feet…” Zaida could tell because she knew exactly whose shoes were this size. “They’re Isaac’s.”

“At least now I feel less guilty about going behind my dad’s back, because he’s clearly doing it too. So much for trust.” Allison sighed and got to her feet.

“Well, now we know where they’re leading them.” Zaida pointed out the benefits of their discovery. “We just have to follow these.”

“Good call,” Allison hiked her bow and sheath up higher over her shoulder from where they’d slipped.

They didn’t have to follow the transmitters for long before it became clear to both girls exactly where the boys were leading them. “They’re taking them to the school? Why?” Zaida’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“They’re trying to trap them until the full moon is over…they’d need a heavy enough door to keep them from breaking out, and the school has a boiler room with a pretty heavy-duty door.” Allison connected the dots.

“What are we waiting for, then? We know where they’re going. We can take a shortcut.” Zaida flashed the huntress a smile.

“Well, they’re definitely here somewhere.” Zaida huffed, slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with Allison as they jogged their way out of the woods and through the bus bay of Beacon Hills High, hearing loud and feral growls.

“Not just somewhere,” Allison whispered, peering around the corner of a large yellow bus. Zaida followed her and peeked around to see both Boyd and the figure of a female werewolf climb over the outside of the school building and land on the ground, headed back towards the Preserve instead of inside where the boys needed them to be.

“I think they need some help,” Zaida noted, and nodded towards the bow on Allison’s back and a specific type of arrow she recognised from a time Allison had used it in front of her and Lydia months before.

“I’m on it.” Allison agreed determinedly and began scaling the side of the bus, using the smallest of handholds to pull herself up to the top.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go around the bus.” Zaida watched her with eyes wide in wonder, knowing there was no way she could replicate that. All else aside, Allison was a badass.

Zaida readied her powers, summoning larger flat disks of water with dulled edges. They’d hurt if they were to hit someone, but they wouldn’t be fatal. They hovered and rotated in the air as she made her way around the bus to see flashes of blinding light as Allison loosened her flare arrows into the surrounding stone structures and concrete floor, forcing the two wild betas towards the open double doors leading inside the school. Zaida sent those disks hurtling through the air towards their heels with a flick of her wrists, urging the wolves forward as the heavy masses of frozen water shattered into pieces at their feet with loud smashes. Both of the betas sprinted inside to escape the onslaught and a tall figure emerged from the shadows to shut the doors behind them, turning towards the bus to spot both of the girls. With his face turned to the moonlight, illuminating his expression of amazement, it became clear it was Isaac. Only he wasn’t staring at Zaida. The shorter girl realised with a sudden onset of surprise that his eyes were locked on Allison.

“I thought I told you to stay at the loft, where it’s safe !” The boy finally tore his gaze away from the taller girl above the bus when she dropped to the ground and retreated, disappearing into thin air.

“And I thought I told you that I could help, and here we are, with me helping.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a raised brow. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not thanking you.” He stated stubbornly but not ungratefully. “Now take Allison and get out of here. We’ve got the rest of it.”

“Only because we helped!” Zaida called out in a sing-song voice as she walked backwards the way they had come, leaving him to hurry inside the building.

“Ready to go?” Allison was waiting for her behind the bus, assessing her with those sharp brown eyes and Zaida fell into step beside her. They headed in the direction of Circle Street, which ran from the school and around through town just a few blocks away from the Preserve boundary line. Allison’s car was parked just a few side-streets off that main road at one of the Preserve entrances.

“What?” Zaida questioned her with a heavy sigh, continuing when the girl sent her a confused expression. “You’ve got this look like you’re trying to figure something out, so just ask me.”

“It’s just, I thought…” Allison began, and then paused, trying to figure out a way to re-word her thoughts in a way that didn’t blatantly reveal the fact that she was so sure there was something going on between Zaida and Stiles. “You and Isaac aren’t still together, are you?”

“God no,” Zaida let out a puff of laughter. “We ended things ages ago, way before summer break. And it’s not picking up again, before you start wondering if that’s the case. What’s with the interest?”

“I’m not…” Allison shook her head in denial, but Zaida knew that look on her face. It was the way she’d always looked when lying about Scott, back when they’d been dating.

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?” Zaida’s lips spread into a slow smile.

“What? No-” Allison shook her head, her cheeks flushing a light pink hue.

“For what it’s worth, I think he thinks you're cute too.” Zaida laughed lightly. Her mind - and heart - immediately went out to Scott. The poor boy was still hung up on the huntress, even though it had been months since they’d broken up.

“It’s not gonna happen.” Allison insisted. Sure, Isaac was attractive, but she’d loved Scott, and a part of her would always love him.

“Is it because of Scott?” Zaida questioned, somehow knowing where the girl’s line of thought had headed.

“So you won’t answer my questions about your love life, but you’re okay to ask me about mine?” Allison scoffed, clearly deflecting.

“That’s because I don’t have a love life. There’s nothing for me to tell.” Zaida gave the girl a half-lie. “Plus, you shot me with a crossbow, so I think I get a free pass.”

“How long are you going to use that as a get-out-of-jail-free card?” Allison chuckled, happy that they could now talk about it so casually without it getting awkward.

“I didn’t think it had to have an expiry date,” Zaida hummed and her phone vibrated in her skirt pocket. She drew it out and checked her notification to see yet another message from Stiles.

Sheriff Junior: Meet me at the morgue when you’re done.

“You wanna come over for a movie or something?” Allison asked her hopefully, having enjoyed the time they’d spent together this afternoon. Towards the end, it had almost felt like normal, back when they were close.

“Actually, could you drop me off at the morgue?” Zaida slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“No rest for the wicked?” Allison shot her a knowing smile.

“Never,” Zaida sighed heavily.

[canary0]

May 5 - Dracula 2023

The morning’s mist has faded, and despite the sun being high in the sky, I can’t tell whether the jagged spires on the horizon are built of mountain peaks or trees. It’s so distant that it just melds into a distant faded blue. I won’t be called upon until I wake, so I will write until I’m finally sleepy. It’s been a very strange day, and it wasn’t like the other day where I can point to paprika as the culprit of any strange imaginings. The evening before I left, I had frigărui, Romanian-style kebabs with beef, bacon, onion, and capsicum, so it wasn’t anything too rich or spicy.

When I went to meet the bus, the driver was outside, speaking to some of the hotel staff. They kept glancing toward me, so I can only assume that they were talking about me. The others waiting for it got into the talk, as well. It was mostly the older members of the group – the few young people didn’t seem to have much interest in the conversation. If I’m not mistaken, I spotted a few eye rolls.

I didn’t catch everything that was said, but a quick translate search turned up some less than comforting responses. Among other words were “ordog” and “pokol” – “devil” and “hell” in Hungarian, and “vlkoslak” – “werewolf” in Serbian, Slovak, and Slovenian. Their manner was one of utmost seriousness, which is troubling to say the least. The young people didn’t seem to believe it from their mannerisms, but it did make me wonder if something is happening out here to make the elders think in terms of werewolves so apparently sincerely. I will have to ask the Count about the situation.

As I got onto the bus the group, that had swelled more than expected, crossed themselves and pointed two fingers for me. I asked what they were doing, and after a bit of prodding and finding out I was English and totally unfamiliar with the gesture, and it was explained that it was a guard against the evil eye. I think they were trying to guard me from it, since their expressions ranged from fear to genuine sympathy and sorrow. Given I was going to be going to an unknown place to meet an unknown man, it drained my confidence about the trip even further. I couldn’t help but be touched by their concern, though. I will never forget the last sight I had of them, sitting in the bus and looking out at the group, set against a backdrop of the oleander and orange trees near the hotel’s entrance.

The dark implications were quickly wiped from my mind as we took off, though. I still noticed a few glances my way, and if I had known the languages those around me spoke quietly in, I likely wouldn’t have been able to shake off the mood so easily if I could have understood what I was hearing. We were heading into the foothills, and it was emerald green and covered in forests and fields. Some of the hills were topped with little farmhouses or clusters of trees, and there were so many fruit blossoms I couldn’t identify all of them as we passed. The grass under the trees looked like it was covered in little snow drifts of petals that ranged from pure white to nearly electric pink.

The road was winding and seemed to disappear around every hill and dip in and out of the pine forests that ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. After the wildfires that seem to have become more and more common as the years have gone on, I can only hope they won’t eventually become literal tongues of flame.

Photo by Andrei Calin from Pixabay (https://pixabay.com/photos/mountain-sunset-tihuta-nature-2791233/)

The road was rough, but that didn’t seem to slow down the driver, who took us along the winding curves with all haste to get to Prundu Bârgăului. There were even a few curves that made me nervous with the height of the bus and the forces as we went around, as well as the road that hadn’t been fixed up since this year’s snow. I’ve been told this road is normally excellent. There was a time in history, I read, where they wouldn’t keep the roads through the Carpathians in order, as a peacekeeping method. Fixing up the road might make the very nearby at the time Ottoman Empire think that they were preparing an offensive. I suppose, with the tradition in place, that really would have been the reason.

Just outside of the little towns and isolated farms, as you look up, forests begin to fill the land as they climb up toward the peaks of the mountains. The afternoon sun lit them up in all their colors – green and brown on the hillsides, blue and purple where the crags hid the mountain faces from the sun. the snowy peaks rose further above that in the distance, almost looking like especially stark clouds from the way the mountains faded into a paler blue in the distance. Every once in a while the sun lit on the reflection of running water where a stream of melted snow cut through the rock with the arrival of spring.

Photo by Vitaliy UA from Unsplash (https://unsplash.com/photos/zhtvE8s2Hxo)

One of the other passengers got my attention and pointed to an unusual flat formation that rose high among the mountains. “Look! Isten széke!” He said. Connection was well lost by then, so I’m not sure what it meant, but he crossed himself when he said it, so there must be some connection to religion.

Photo by Kántor Lajos in Wikimedia Commons (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Isten_sz%C3%A9ke.jpg)

We had headed out quite late, and as the hour wore on, it seemed like twilight came early. The sun dipped below the peaks, its rays lighting up the snow that still capped the mountains in a delicate pink, link the fruit blossoms before. In the low light, I could see sights that were new to me – hay bales lifted into trees, and copses of weeping birch, their silvery bark seeming to shin in the low light between the leaves that hung about them, bright green in their newness. There were a few small religious shrines on the side of the road, which seemed almost always occupied with a person. The people at each one didn’t even look up when vehicles passed, seeming lost in their devotion. I mentioned to another passenger how I wish I had the opportunity between my work to take a walk through the hills, and the man turned to me and gave the least smile-like smile I had seen on a person, an upturn of the lips that didn’t meet the eyes paired with a voice that bore grim finality. “No… you must not walk here. The dogs are too fierce… and you may have enough of such matters before you sleep.

He glanced at those nearby and received similarly humorless chuckles in turn.

As the sun dipped further, the driver accelerated, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the speed we were going was legal on roads like these. The bus lurched stressfully around curves, and the older riders seemed to lack any concern for it, glancing out the window and urging the driver faster, it seemed like, if anything. I gripped the seat ahead of me, my teeth clenched as I gave a silent prayer that the bus didn’t overbalance entirely around the next tight curve. As we went, despite the lack of stability, some of the passengers offered me a variety of strange gifts… or rather, they gave them to me, since the offer seemed to include no room for argument. Always with a ward against the evil eye, like at the hotel before.

The clouds had gathered thick and fast as we traveled, which may be why it seemed that night came so quickly – it was like midnight not long after dusk, and only the headlights of the bus lit the darkness. Many of the riders seemed to peer out intently into the darkness as if expecting something, but I couldn’t see much of anything in the deep shadow.

Finally, the headlights lit upon a pale track and the bus rolled to a stop, but the driver didn’t turn off the engine. The driver muttered something in Romanian and checked his phone and the clock on the front console of the bus. He turned toward me, as I was sitting at the very front, just to his side. “It seems that your vehicle isn’t here. It is fine, I will be happy to take you on to Bucovina-”

His statement was interrupted by the appearance of a calèche – an actual honest-to-goodness horse-drawn carriage like you might see carrying tourists around London, but with four horses instead of one, a lantern hanging from a hook on it. The passengers gasped, some crossed themselves, and some seemed as confused as I was. The bus driver sucked in a breath through his teeth that I could hear from my seat and tensed as though bracing himself for the unmoving bus to ram into the thing. The horses, where they waited in the headlights, were deep black and elegant creatures, and would have blended into the darkness if not for the bus. The carriage was driven by a man with a long brown beard and a wide-brimmed black hat that concealed his face. I only got a brief glance at his eyes, bright and the sort of unusual shade of brown that looks red in the right light.

He rapped on the door of the bus and the driver opened it, moving down the short stairs with trepidation. I could hear their conversation, as close as I was to the door, and see them as they stood in the night.

The tall man who drove the coach spoke first. “You’re early tonight, my friend.”

“Th-the Englishman was i-in a hurry,” the driver replied, body even more stiff than when he braced on the bus, now looking like a rabbit ready to bolt at the sound of a wolf.

“That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bucovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift.” He grinned, or bared teeth, at least. And what teeth. Deeply white enough to gleam even in the darkness, the light reflection almost making them look sharp, set in a mouth with deep red lips.

Across from me, I heard an older man murmur a line from Burger’s “Lenore”:

“-denn die Todten reiten schnell.” “For the dead travel fast.”

The carriage driver seemed to overhear him, because he looked up, straight at the passenger, and smiled. The man shrank back in his seat and went silent. He turned back to his conversation with the bus driver, instructing him to give him my luggage.

As the bus driver opened the underbelly of the bus and took out my bags, I disembarked from the vehicle and stepped up the to carriage, which had gotten surprisingly close to the bus. It was a little awkward, since I had only ever seen one of these, and never ridden in one. The driver reached down with a grip like a tempered steel band.

The bus shifted into gear nearby once I was settled and returned to its route through the night. I could briefly see the faces of some of the passengers backlit in the windows as they rode away before the interior lights turned off. A few of them did the sign warding against the evil eye one last time before it disappeared into the night. When it did, a lonely feeling came over me, intensified by the fact that I couldn’t help but be struck by the enormous kindness of the people here.

A chill came over me with their disappearance, but the driver draped a cloak over my shoulder on top of my coat and a warm blanket over my lap. “The night is chill, sir, and my master the Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz underneath the seat, if you should require it.” Slivovitz is a plum brandy of the country, and while I had hoped to try it at some point during my trip, it seemed wise to keep as much heat internal rather than external as I could. Besides, with the tension and such a strange situation, a clear head seemed the wiser course. Fear held onto me, and I wondered what would have happened if I really had simply continued on the bus to Bucovina… But who knows what would have happened then.

The driver went hard on the horses and we rode relatively rapidly along the dirt track that headed out into the hills. It went a long way in one way, then we turned along another long track and continued. There’s an old joke that two wrongs don’t make a right, but three lefts do. I made note of a landmark, a vividly red peony, standing out to me and reminding me of the coachman’s eyes as it caught the light. In a while, we did indeed come by it again, confirming my suspicions. We were going in circles.

We must have been doing it for hours, as it was close to midnight when I finally risked running down the battery to check my phone for the time. I tucked it away and looked around, waiting in the rattling, bouncing conveyance with trepidation. Perhaps the days events were clinging to my mind.

Soon, a dog in the distance sent up a howl. Then another joined it. One by one, more howls joined until the land itself seemed to be raising a wail to the heavens. The horses began to strain and rear in a panic but the driver seemed to be able to quiet them down. I couldn’t help but notice their trembling, though. Then another howl picked up, sharper and different somehow. Is this what wolves sounded like? I had never heard a wolf howl before, and it seemed a wholly different thing from a mere dog’s howl. It awakened a primordial fear ion me, and I felt as ready as the horses to bolt. They seemed to panic, and the driver did everything he could to keep them from bolting. Keeping them under control was a feat of effort that needed the kind of strength I’d felt in his hand.

He managed it, and then got down to pet and soothe them once they were relatively still. Once they were still, we took off again once more, this time taking a much smaller track sharply to the right off the dirt road – or series of roads – we had traversed until now. We had to be heading up into the mountains, because those forests I had seen in the distance were now hemming in all around us, creating a tunnel of wood and occasionally great rocks on either side of the coach. The wind grew as it does up a mountain, and a fine snow soon began to fall, making me pull the cloak tighter around me. Whether it was from fear or cold more I’m not sure, because the sound of the wolves now grew louder while the howling of the dogs faded away behind us.

Suddenly, I saw a blue flame off to the left, and the driver suddenly stopped us and hopped out onto the road, disappearing into the darkness almost immediately. I heard the wolves coming closer and wondered for a moment what he was thinking just leaving the horses and myself behind, but he soon reappeared and we were off again. I wonder if I fell asleep at that point, because it seemed like it happened many more times, over and over, as if in a loop.

One time he stopped at one close enough that I could see what was going on somewhat by the lamplight. He built a small caern at the location where the flame appeared and… I think they must be some sort of optical illusion, because at one time he was standing before the flame and I could see it through him. I suspect the night had gone on too long and frayed my nerves too thin at that point.

Of course, that is not to say they could not be shaken further. At one point, he went much farther away, and the horses became much more alarmed than before. They reared and screamed, and I didn’t know why until the moon emerged from behind a tall, jagged rock, illuminating the surroundings. The wolves, which had gone silent when I was paying more attention to the coachman’s strange activities, now surrounded us. They were graceful, moving silently in the night, all the more frightening for their silence.

As the moon lit on their fur, it almost seemed to have an effect on them – they let out a long howl. It was a beautiful, mournful sound that froze my heart to ice in terror. We were surrounded – the horses clearly wanted to bolt but could not. Their rearing and rattling of the calèche broke me out of my frozen state, at least, and I shouted into the woods for the coachman, and beat on the side of the vehicle to perhaps scare the wolves into backing away a little to give them a way in.

It seemed my efforts were unneeded, however. He appeared down the road and spoke to the wolves in an imperious tone, making a sweeping gesture before him. The wolves seemed to be cowed and backed away farther and farther. The wind obscured the moon behind heavy cloud cover again, and I was left in blackness again. The driver soon climbed into the calèche again and the horses were driven forward again without incident, the wolves apparently gone.

We went up and up, only dipping briefly in deference to the natural shape of mountains, interminably to the point where I lost track of time. It seemed to me like it should have been dawn long before, but stress and the strange choice of conveyance had clearly made the trip seem much longer than it was. I was starting to understand why it was a calèche. I doubt many motorized vehicles could have gone the way we were.

Eventually, I came out of the fog of endless rattling, rising terrain, and into the realization that the coachman was pulling us into the courtyard of an ancient, ruined castle. We were above the clouds now, it seemed, but even with the shine of the moon, the castle was dark. No light shined from its windows, and its crumbling towers stretched into the sky, as spire to match the grand and terrifying peaks that surrounded it.

I suspect what I thought was mere mental fog must have been sleep from physical and mental exhaustion, because otherwise I certainly would have seen a place like this approach. Or perhaps I did, and I simply mistook it from one of the grand formations of rock around us, a monument to the forces of the earth. Even the courtyard seemed large, with many exits that went under round archways. It was difficult to tell the size in the darkness.

The coachman helped me down – and once again, I noticed the unyielding strength of his hand that could have crushed mine whenever he wishes – and took my bags down. Once again, he alighted on the calèche and drove it away, leaving me before the door to the castle.

The door itself was massive and of ancient wood, with iron nails driven into it. A massive stone frame ensconced it that looked like it had once been elaborately carved, but time and the cutting wind of the mountains had worn it down. The whole thing was built on a scale that suggested something much larger than a mere human, an entrance for some titan.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do – there was no bell or knocker, my voice wouldn’t likely penetrate the thick stone walls, and I doubted I could move the heavy wood and iron door myself. I was left only with the cold, the silence except for the wind, and my own thoughts.

What had I gotten myself into, and with whom? Was this some right of passage for a solicitor’s clerk – strange ordeals to see strange clients for what should be a mundane legal matter?

Clerk… No, I was a full solicitor now. Mina wouldn’t want me to sell myself short. And Mina… what I wouldn’t have given at that moment to be able to call and hear her voice. But this adventure had left me truly alone up here – more alone than I realized I had ever been. I’ve been surrounded by connections my entire life, held them in my hand. And now… nothing. Just me, the mountains, and a dark castle, as though the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.

I thought for a moment I was having a terrible nightmare, but a pinch didn’t lead me to wake up at home. All I could do was wait.

Just as the thought came upon me, I picked up the sound of movement. Heavy footsteps – and light! That had come to feel like a precious resources tonight. The clanking of heavy chains and the scrape of stubborn iron bolts sounded behind the heavy door. Something creaked and then there was a sharp clack as an old lock finally gave. The ancient timber groaned as it moved in what sounded like the first time in ages.

Revealed as the door swung back was a tall man, old, his long, white mustache his only facial hair. He was dressed from head to toe in black. There was not a single spot of color on his entire outfit. He was wholly monochrome, the ancient silver lantern in his hand the only hint at anything about him not wholly black or white. When he spoke it was in English, in an odd tone.

“Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!” He stood entirely still after he spoke, as if he had turned to stone. It was eerie, much like the odd specificity of his statement. It wasn’t easing my mind further, to be sure.

Once I stepped over the threshold, he became more animate, reaching out to take my hand once I had put down my bags. The stone analogy only seemed more apropos when he did – his hand was enormously strong and very cold. He seemed like a man made of marble. When I type that out here, I can’t shake off the memory of a story in a horror anthology about a lily being turned to marble.

“Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring!” he said again, and his handshake brought to mind the coachman and the strength in his hands. I had to confirm, and asked, “Count Dracula?”

He nodded. “I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in; the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest,” he said as he put his lamp in a bracket on the wall and picked up my luggage. I didn’t have time to stop him, but he clearly noticed what I meant by stepping forward and holding my hand out. His words brushed off my aborted effort, though. “Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself.”

I wanted to protest further, but it seemed rude past that insistence. I followed along behind him through a passage, then up a winding staircase upward, and down a long passage again. Our footsteps echoed on the stone all around wherever we went with nothing to soften the sound of our passing. He pushed open a heavy door, and behind it was what felt like the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

A warm, well-lit room, with dinner set out and cheerily burning logs within the fireplace. After everything else that has gone on tonight, I could have cried to see it.

He inclined his head courteously to me. “You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by changing. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared.”

I was so relieved by everything here that my fears were dispelled for the moment, and I changed quickly and went to the room he’d indicated. When I arrived, dinner was already laid out, and the Count stood to one side of the fireplace. He gestured to the tabled. “Please, have a seat and dine as you please. I have already eaten, so you will forgive me if I do not join you.”

I didn’t sit down just yet – instead, I brought out the letter Mr. Hawkins had entrusted me to deliver. The count read it solemnly, then smiled and handed it back for me to read as well. Looking it over curiously, I was pleased to see one passage in particular.

“I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any traveling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.”

Once that was read, the Count took off the lid of my supper, with turned out to be of exquisite quality. A whole roast chicken, cheese, a salad, and a bottle of sweet Tokaji wine. I had two glasses, which went very well with the rest of the food and admittedly did some to calm my feelings further after this evening’s harrowing journey. He asked me many questions about my journey, and I shared all I could with him; though after the veiled threat of his coachman to the bus driver, I may have left out some of the actions of the people I’d encountered that might cause them trouble.

Now that I had a chance to look at him, he was very unique in his features. A strong jaw and a thing, aquiline nose, with thicker hair than I might expect from someone of his apparent age. His ears and teeth almost looked pointed, and he had quite thin lips, though very red, which reminded me again of the coachman. His cheeks were very thing, and between that and his very cold hands, I had to wonder if he had been ill in some way.

His nails were cut to a point, and when he reached over and touch my hand, the mood of the evening before made me shiver, thinking of the damage sharp nails and strong hands could do. He apparently noticed and drew back with a grim sort of smile, settling into silence for a while.

Eventually, the sound of wolves echoed up through the window from the valley below, and I glanced at the window, the image of them surrounding the coach rising vividly to mind. He seemed to notice the change in the direction of my gaze. His eyes lit up, and he said, “Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make!”

I swallowed, not sure what to say. It was beautiful, genuinely, but haunting… and I had certainly had enough of that feeling for the night. He picked up on my mood – if nothing else, he is certainly observant. “Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter.” He rose. “But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and to-morrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream well!”

With that, he left for an octagonal room, and I went into my bedroom and set up something I got before I went, when Mr. Hawkins warned me that there likely wouldn’t been much in the way of electricity up here – a small solar generator, and some panels I can set up on the window sill, or hang from the window, perhaps. It will let me continue to charge my laptop, at least, so I can keep writing this and do the electronic portion of my work for the Count.

This day has been all too strange, and going over it again in my mind, I can’t help the fear from before that rises back again on the reminder of it all. I wonder, and my thoughts are strange – things I dare not admit to my own soul.

I hope I can keep it together, if only for the sake of those dear to me.

(A/N: Oh my god, that was a lot… especially for how little really changed between this and the book. Dracula is a bit stuck in the past… and with the location of the castle, it would be a gigantic pain to get gas up there, so he still uses the caleche. I rather enjoy how bizarre it is to a modern mind.

I think it’s appropriate for Jon’s connection to the outside world and ability to sort out his thoughts (and keep his sanity) is now powered by the sun.

I did my best to put all this in my own words. The only thing super unchanged are Dracula's lines and some descriptions that were too vital to the ambiance not to use. Because Dracula's an unaging undead creature and you gotta have vibes.)

[bytheangell]

An Easy Deal

(Read on AO3)

Lydia wonders if she's cursed after the luck she's had this week.

Every mission goes awry. It feels like every order she gives is questioned, with sass by those under her command and derision by those above her. She has a headache that her iratze barely dulls for 24 straight hours, though that one may be her own doing - she's barely had time to eat a full meal in days.

And all she can think is the irrational belief that one hug from Maia would cure all of her problems, or at the very least make them bearable.

The only problem is that their relationship is a secret. She can't exactly waltz into werewolf territory without raising suspicions, not when they both agreed that it would be better if no one knew they were together.

Normally this isn’t a problem. One of them would text or call the other, and they’d arrange to meet somewhere neutral and out of sight. Lydia’s been texting Maia for three days now with no reply. It’s making Lydia anxious, and really not helping her overall mood on top of everything else, until she finally caves and brings it up during a debrief with Alec and Isabelle.

“Any word from the werewolves? I feel like things have been quiet from them lately,” she says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Nothing that pertains to us,” Alec says.

“Maia’s recovering from that incident with the rogue fledgling, but I imagine we’ll hear from them regularly again once she’s back. You know the others aren’t as open with regular updates as she is,” Izzy adds.

Lydia feels her heart stutter. “Maia’s hurt?” The question leaves her lips before

“She’ll be fine,” Alec shrugs the question off, already moving on to the next matter of business.

Lydia’s head is lost in a swirl of worry, though. For Maia to be hurt badly enough that she hasn’t reached out at all for days…

The moment she’s free, Lydia finds herself walking out of the Institute and heading… where, exactly? What’s her plan? The truth is that she doesn’t have one. She just needs to see Maia with her own eyes, to know that she’s alright. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have a single objective beyond getting there.

Lydia decides to start with Maia’s apartment. It’s close to the Hunter’s Moon, but she doesn’t think anyone spots her going into the building. She thinks she’s in the clear until she knocks on Maia’s door and Bat answers, immediately tensing at the sight of her.

Fuck.

“Can I help you?” Bat asks, placing himself in the opening of the door blocking the view inside.

“I’m here to see… Miss Roberts,” Lydia says.

“Why?”

Lydia hesitates, but thankfully doesn’t have to answer.

“Lydia?” Maia’s voice sounds from inside. “Let her in.”

Bat steps aside reluctantly, allowing Lydia to step inside to see Maia slowly and carefully propping herself up on the sofa.

“Maia,” Lydia breathes. “I just found out about the attack or I would’ve come sooner.” “I broke my phone, or I would’ve called,” Maia says.

Lydia’s eyes dart over to Bat, who stands to the side with his arms crossed, eyeing the two of them carefully.

Maia reads her hesitation, watches the way Lydia comes so close but stops short of reaching out, though the way Lydia’s hands fidget in front of her speak volumes.

Maia glances from Lydia to Bat, then back to Lydia before standing up and closing the space between them, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s waist as she half-collapses into a hug.

Lydia wraps her arms around Maia’s shoulders, following her lead for a hug that she starts to pull away from after a few seconds only to have Maia pull her back in for a little while longer. It’s not nearly long enough for Lydia’s own liking, but considering the fact that they aren’t alone, she knows it’s far too long.

Bat clears his throat.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Bat points out.

“It’s okay, we can trust Bat,” Maia whispers in Maia’s ear. “In fact,” she says, pulling back. “You have no idea how much it killed me to not send someone sooner. What do you think about being a little less secret?”

Lydia’s heartbeat quickens. “Are you certain?”

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“No! I do. I absolutely do. I’m here, aren’t I?” And if you weren’t here I would’ve gone to the bar, or the Jade Wolf… whatever it took to see you.”

Maia beams.

“Do you, uh, want me to go?” Bat asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Yeah. Sorry. Do me a favor and don’t mention this to the other yet, but…” “I got you,” Bat says with a wink. “For what it’s worth, Shadowhunter will be a definite step-up from vampire for the others, so you have that going for you.”

Maia laughs, and Lydia joins her. She knows this isn’t going to be easy, but it’s nice to start with one friendly face on their side.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Lydia says, shaking her head with a smile on her face. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Bat says before disappearing out the front door.

“So. How do you want to do this?” Lydia asks Maia, who shrugs.

“We could just make out in front of everyone every time we see each other until they catch on?” Maia suggests, leaning in to steal a kiss now that they’re alone.

Lydia laughs into the kiss. “Maia, please.”

“Start with the people we trust, and work it out from there. Just promise me we won’t hesitate to show up when we need to, no matter who knows. Deal?”

Lydia, who wanted nothing more than to do just that for days, could not agree faster.

“Deal.”

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

The Werewolf and the Angel Chapter 5- Remus Lupin x OC

Remus Lupin x Violetta Cook

Description: Violetta brings some treats to Remus then goes to Hogsmeade for a meeting with the Minister of Magic himself.

Word Count: 2.1k

It had been a particularly bad full moon for the marauders. Of course, Violetta wouldn’t know as Remus had forbidden her from going to the Shrieking Shack with them because of the risk. She didn’t care, as long as she could be there to wait for their return. It was a compromise they could handle, especially since Violetta would get some potions and supplies from Madame Pomfrey so they didn’t have to make the trip.

Unfortunately for her, as well as the guys, Violetta had gotten caught in the boy’s dorm and was escorted back to her room by the Gryffindor Head Boy. The Head Girl of Ravenclaw ended up staying close by so she had no way to sneak out. With great hesitance and some convincing from Gaia, Violetta finally laid down and got some sleep.

She was at the Gryffindor entrance with her almost full hand knitted bag on her shoulder first thing in the morning. After mumbling the password, she bolted upstairs, not sparing a glance to Lily and Marlene. Peter, Sirius and James were standing outside of their room looking exhausted. James perked up upon noticing her and wrapped her in a hug.

“We were wondering where you were,” Sirius said, hugging her once she and James let go. Violetta smiled guiltily.

“I’m sorry, I was waiting but you guys were taking longer than usual. Will Brown saw your door cracked open and went to investigate.” The guys’ moods dampened a bit at the mention of them being late. 

“What happened to you guys?” She asked, noticing that they looked worse than they usually did after a full moon. 

“We don’t know exactly,” James started. “It was worse last night. Moony was more vicious, more hostile.” Violetta’s face morphed from confusion to concern. 

“He passed out as soon as he was human again,” Peter added tiredly. The guys looked solemn, as if they’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Has he-” Violetta began, but James seemed to already know what she was about to ask. 

“He woke up ten minutes ago, but he wanted to be alone. I think he’s trying to patch himself off,” he said earnestly. “Maybe you should go help him Birdie.” With a final nod, Violetta walked into the room. 

Sure enough, Remus was hunched over on his bed attempting to rip the bandage wrap with his teeth. He turned to face her after hearing the door open. Her heart almost broke as she noticed new scratches on his face and arms. She couldn’t imagine how many more were under his clothes. 

“Hey Moony,” she spoke softly, not moving yet to see what he wanted. He gave her a weak smile in response.

“Hi Angel,” was all he said. they both knew why she was here, but she thought she would say it anyway, she was never one for long silences.

“Thought you might need some help.” She gestured to his badly wrapped arm and smiled when a quiet laugh came from him. She waited until he gestured her over before actually taking a seat beside him. They sat in silence while she unwrapped his arm and began properly dressing it. Violetta knew better than to ask about last night, he’d start talking when he was ready. And Remus was ready when she began cleaning the fresh scars on his face.

“I guess the moon was just stronger this time around,” he muttered, wincing when she cleaned one of the deeper cuts. She simply hummed in response, waiting for him to go on. 

“It didn’t help that you weren’t here when I woke up,” he added jokingly. Violetta pouted in response, her shoulder slumping. Before she could defend herself he spoke again.

“I know. Will Brown caught you, I heard you telling the guys.” She relaxed when he said that. 

“You’re mean for that. Maybe I shouldn’t give you what’s in my bag,” she teased. Remus’s eyes widened and he glanced behind her, where her bag was laying. How had he not noticed until that point?

“What’s in it?” He asked eagerly, reaching for it. Violetta moved it out of his grasp on the other side of her. 

“Nuh uh, not until we’ve finished with your wounds. They need to be cleaned.” The boy groaned dramatically, resting his forehead on Violetta’s shoulder. 

“Not fair,” he grumbled lazily. She smirked and set her bag on the floor by the bed.

“Not fair indeed, but those are the conditions.” With a little more grumbling, Remus agreed and allowed Violetta to finish dressing his wounds. Once she finished she pulled her bag onto her lap, pulling out several chocolate bars and treats. His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at the sight and he immediately unwrapped one, tore off a piece and popped it into his mouth. Violetta pulled out a few pieces of saltwater taffy and had some. The two sat there sharing their treats for a few minutes in comfortable silence before a knock was heard at the door. After Remus called an entrance, Sirius popped his head inside.

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but it’s almost time for class. I have the first shift, remember?” His question was aimed at Violetta. She, Sirius, Peter and James had a routine for days after a full moon. Sirius stayed with Remus for the first three classes of the day, James sat with him during break and lunch (leaving in the middle only momentarily to get them something to eat), Peter sat with him for the three afternoon classes, and Violetta sat with him for any classes afterwards. By that time he’d be feeling well enough to at least go down to the common room and interact with others.

“Oh yeah, thanks Padfoot,” Violetta said as she started to gather their trash. Sirius sat on the bed beside Remus as she grabbed her books. Just before she left, Remus grabbed her hand.

“Hey, you forgot something,” he muttered with a pout. Violetta ran a list through her head before realization struck her.

“Oh! Sorry darling,” she spoke, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. A content smile appeared on his smug face making her roll her eyes.

“Have a good day Angel.” She nodded and bid them a quick goodbye before making her way out and down the stairs with James and Peter following her.

Violetta couldn’t help but smile at the memory that now replayed in her mind as she made her way to Remus’ chambers. It was the morning after the Sirius Black scare and full moon. Violetta, though she knew that Remus was better with his Wolfsbane potion, knew that his side effects were awful and decided to bring him a pick me up. The fact that Snape was substituting for him only served to prove that. 

Once she arrived at his door, she raised a hand and knocked three times. For a moment there was silence on the other side. Violeta began to worry that he was trying to sleep and she was just waking him up. But then she heard movement shortly before he called out. 

“Come in.” The woman wasted no time in walking in, closing the door behind her. The man was laying in bed, but it was obvious that he wasn’t asleep. He looked a little worse for wear, but it wasn’t anything that Violetta hadn’t seen before. His eyes were open and he was staring out the blind-less window across from his bed, though his gaze turned to her when she stepped inside. She watched his eyes widen upon seeing her. 

“Bir- uh, Violetta,” Remus greeted, obviously surprised to see her. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I bring gifts,” she responded simply, holding up her small blue and white tote bag specifically for shopping at Hogsmeade. A small laugh escaped the man’s lips as she walked over and took a seat on his bed. Before she divulged in the contents of the bag she set it aside and took a moment to look him over. 

“How was last night?” She asked gently, pushing some hair out of his face without thinking - like it was the most natural thing in the world for her. It used to be a long time ago, but now Violetta blushed when she realized what she was doing. Remus didn’t seem to mind, however. 

“Same as ever,” he responded with a shrug. “I’m just tired now.” 

“Well, luckily I have the perfect cure for that before you go to sleep,” she said, perking up as she pulled the bag between them. “I’ve Fizzing Whizbees, Fudge Flies, Peppermint Chocolate Toads, Chocoballs, Honeydukes brand chocolate bars and salt water taffy - the taffy is for me though. I would be happy to share with you.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Remus muttered with a fond smile. “Those are your favorite, you never shared them.” 

“Hey, you don’t know,” she said, feigning offense. “I could’ve changed over the last ten years and become more generous with my taffy.” 

“Did you?”

“No,” Violetta grumbled, busying herself by rummaging through the tote. Remus laughed beside her, which admittedly brought a smile to her face as she began pulling out the various treats for him. They unwrapped their own candies and ate in silence. Sure, they probably should’ve been eating real food for breakfast and not chocolate and taffy. But, they were adults and they could make adult decisions about their choice of meals. 

“Professor Dumbledore has asked me to go to the Three Broomsticks with McGonagall when the students head to Hogsmeade,” she mentioned softly. 

“Really?” Remus asked with interest. Violetta nodded. 

“And I heard that the Minister is here,” she added, growing nervous at the thought. If the man wasn’t surprised before, he definitely was now. 

“What for?” 

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling it has to do with Harry. I just know it.” Remus seemed to sense her unease because he gingerly reached his free hand out and rested it over hers. Her eyes met his, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. 

“Whatever the reason is, I’m sure Harry will be just fine,” he muttered soothingly, then he continued when she still looked hesitant. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” the woman sighed. “Dumbledore wants it to remain secret.”

“And the first thing you did was tell me?” He questioned as his lips quirked up in amusement. Violetta rolled her eyes playfully. 

“What, are you saying I can’t trust you?” She teased. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” That made both of them laugh, then Violetta spared a glance outside. Students were already beginning to line up in the courtyard. 

“I should probably get going,” she sighed, standing up. “Keep my taffy safe?” The question was a joke, and one that lightened the tensions even more. 

“Always,” he responded with a smile before taking her hand in his. “Will you be okay?” 

“I think so,” she decided after a moment of thought. For a moment Remus just stared at her, then ultimately nodded and let go of her hand. Violetta tried not to mourn the loss of warmth and instead wished him goodbye before heading out. 

“Ah, Professor Cook,” Cornelius Fudge greeted from a Ministry provided sled outside the castle, holding out his hand to help her in. “Lovely as always.” 

“You flatter me, sir,” she laughed fakely as she climbed in, desperately trying to conceal her nerves. McGonagall, who also sat in the sled, seemed to notice it anyway because she offered her a comforting smile. Once they were comfortably seated they made polite conversation as they rode towards Hogsmeade.

“Rosmerta, m'dear!” The Minister greeted happily as they pulled up to the Three Broomsticks, where Hagrid was waiting. The half giant opened the door and, unfortunately, ripped it off its hinges with the strength he seemed to frequently forget he had. After apologizing, Hagrid helped the women out and the trio walked up to Madam Rosmerta, who stood outside her establishment. 

“I trust business is good?” Fudge continued politely, earning a sarcastic smile from the woman. 

“It'd be a right sight better if the Ministry wasn't sending Dementors into my pub every other night,” she responded bitterly. 

“We have a killer on the loose,” was the Minister’s response, which shocked Rosmerta. 

“Sirius Black? In Hogsmeade! And what would bring him here?” 

“Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter!?” Fudge and McGonagall were quick to shush her, then the Minister looked around nervously. Once he was sure no one around them was listening, he jerked his head towards the pub. 

“Come on, inside everyone.” With that, he led McGonagall, Rosmerta and Violetta inside.