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Adoring this series as a whole already!

Dawnbringer - Part One

(A/N) um, idk what to really say other than i wanted a werewolf kate fic and then i wrote one so here’s the first chapter alskfdj probably won’t be long, 4-6 chapters max just beefy and dripping with plot

read it on ao3

Rating: E (Explicit eventually, rn it’s fine)

Warnings: Dark Themes; Supernatural Creatures; Werewolf Tropes; Vague Prophecies; Legions of the Undead; Vampiric Overlords; Sapphic Pining; Gay Panic; Darcy Lewis being a fucking g; R’s parents had a nasty divorce and they’re not great ppl but they love R so at least we dont have entirely fucked up parents in this fic lmfao; that’s it for now but this will eventually have p0rn as usual so let’s just get that warning out there now

Pairing: Werewolf!Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Total Word Count: 5.3k (for now)

Synopsis: After an uneventful party, your night becomes a whole lot more eventful when you meet an enormous blue-eyed wolf. 

| Part One | Part Two |

You don’t typically attend the outrageous weekend parties that your friends enjoy frequenting, but this week has been rough to say the least. With finals rapidly approaching, the tests and assignments thrust upon you for your final year in college have piled up to an alarming proportion. If the stress of that weren’t enough to kill you, during what few hours of sleep you’re able to steal, you’re restless. Strange dreams that you can’t remember upon waking up haunt your evenings, leaving you uneasy in the morning and anxious throughout the day.

So, really, you just came to the party for the free booze and hopefully force yourself into having some fun. It didn’t last long, though. Your friends ditched you, and you ended up spending the last hour and a half on a couch in the corner of the dingy frat basement. You only really gained the energy to leave when some guy started talking to you about NFTs. 

The waning half moon bathes the campus in her hooded gaze, illuminating the sidewalk better than the flickering yellow street lamps. The evening air is blissful against your overheated skin, the party apparently being warmer than you thought it was. It’s quiet as you make your way towards your apartment complex, which, thankfully, isn’t very far from your university.

Cedar and maple trees line the street, and the further you walk towards your apartment, the thicker their numbers grow. Joined by sycamore and oak, the forest that resides directly across from your building is typically alive with insects and frogs this late at night.

Only halfway to your apartment do you realize that the forest is silent and still as death.

Keep reading

[aphrodite-made-me-write-it]

Dawnbringer - Part One

(A/N) um, idk what to really say other than i wanted a werewolf kate fic and then i wrote one so here’s the first chapter alskfdj probably won’t be long, 4-6 chapters max just beefy and dripping with plot

read it on ao3

Rating: E (Explicit eventually, rn it’s fine)

Warnings: Dark Themes; Supernatural Creatures; Werewolf Tropes; Vague Prophecies; Legions of the Undead; Vampiric Overlords; Sapphic Pining; Gay Panic; Darcy Lewis being a fucking g; R’s parents had a nasty divorce and they’re not great ppl but they love R so at least we dont have entirely fucked up parents in this fic lmfao; that’s it for now but this will eventually have p0rn as usual so let’s just get that warning out there now

Pairing: Werewolf!Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Total Word Count: 5.3k (for now)

Synopsis: After an uneventful party, your night becomes a whole lot more eventful when you meet an enormous blue-eyed wolf. 

| Part One | Part Two |

You don’t typically attend the outrageous weekend parties that your friends enjoy frequenting, but this week has been rough to say the least. With finals rapidly approaching, the tests and assignments thrust upon you for your final year in college have piled up to an alarming proportion. If the stress of that weren’t enough to kill you, during what few hours of sleep you’re able to steal, you’re restless. Strange dreams that you can’t remember upon waking up haunt your evenings, leaving you uneasy in the morning and anxious throughout the day.

So, really, you just came to the party for the free booze and hopefully force yourself into having some fun. It didn’t last long, though. Your friends ditched you, and you ended up spending the last hour and a half on a couch in the corner of the dingy frat basement. You only really gained the energy to leave when some guy started talking to you about NFTs. 

The waning half moon bathes the campus in her hooded gaze, illuminating the sidewalk better than the flickering yellow street lamps. The evening air is blissful against your overheated skin, the party apparently being warmer than you thought it was. It’s quiet as you make your way towards your apartment complex, which, thankfully, isn’t very far from your university.

Cedar and maple trees line the street, and the further you walk towards your apartment, the thicker their numbers grow. Joined by sycamore and oak, the forest that resides directly across from your building is typically alive with insects and frogs this late at night.

Only halfway to your apartment do you realize that the forest is silent and still as death.

Something primal kicks in, pushing away all remnants of the hard seltzers you’d nursed over the course of the party. Your senses come alive in a way they never have before, your ears straining to pick up on any noise and the darkness seeming brighter. You can even smell more clearly as the adrenaline pumps into your veins.

A low growl spills from the darkness. Terror grips you, your entire body seizing as the instinct to fight and the instinct to flee begin to go at war within your body and mind. In the end, your fearful state gives the creature plenty of time to slip from the shadows of the trees.

An enormous black wolf, bigger than any you have ever seen before, approaches you with its head lowered and hackles raised. Piercing blue eyes seem to look right through you as its lips curl back to reveal long, sharp teeth.

You make peace with death in the milliseconds between the wolf lunging at you and the moment you realize it’s running right past you. Dazed and petrified, you can only stumble until you’re turned around, watching the creature pounce on another person. A man.

The man lets out a furious snarl that the wolf meets with a snarl of its own. To your amazement, even as the wolf rips into the man’s flesh, no blood spills. Not a single drop. In fact, the skin seems to turn to stone the second the wolf manages to tear off an arm.

The man shoves the wolf away with such strength you gasp. The wolf goes flying into the woods, and in the blink of an eye the man is on you. You cry out in fear, his only arm coming up to grip your throat and tilt your head viciously to the side.

It occurs to you that perhaps the wolf had been protecting you. You call out for it, “Come back! Help!” and though you don’t expect a wild animal to obey you, to your amazement, the black wolf comes bounding out of the tree line again. This time, there’s a new fury in its blue gaze.

It stops short when it realizes the grip the man has on you, teeth bared in a threatening growl. 

“You can’t stop us, mutt,” the man hisses, his hands ice cold on your skin. “She’s coming with me.”

You squirm hard against him, fear coursing through your body and making you tremble uncontrollably. His strength is alarming, his body feeling hard as a statue as you fight against it. “W-what do you want from me? Let me go!”

“Quiet!” The man snaps, squeezing your throat so hard you nearly blackout. “Once we awaken her blood, she’ll bring forth our master and-”

The wolf lunges. You faintly register a stinging in your shoulder when the man is ripped away from you. You’re thrown to the ground, body finally giving into the uncontrollable trembles that have overtaken it. You can do nothing but cower and cover your head as screams and vicious growls fill the air. What sounds like hard stone being split open cracks into the night, the following silence ringing with your terror.

Warm breath on your shoulder makes you whimper and flinch. A wet nose nudges against your skin, a tongue soothing over throbbing flesh. You’ve been wounded. You hadn’t quite picked up on it right away, but as you force your eyes open you’re met with the sight of a bloodied shoulder, what looks to be claw marks from when the wolf had gone for the man. 

You jump in alarm when you realize the wolf is right there, right next to you, and it had licked your shoulder. The creature gives a low whine, blue eyes meeting yours apologetically. It strikes you how intelligent those eyes are, as if there were some sort of humanistic understanding in them. 

You let out a shaky breath, turning over so you can sit up and face the animal. It doesn’t move, though it watches you with those strange eyes intently. With slightly shaking fingers, you reach out and stroke the creature’s neck. Its shining black fur is softer than you thought it would be, the beast calmer than you’ve ever heard of any wild wolf being.

This has to be some sort of dream.

You’ve had strange dreams all your life, and this has to be one of them.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, and the wolf tilts its head as if confused. 

“I’ve never had a wolf save me in my dreams before,” you say, because you may as well talk to the creature if this is all a dream. Because wolves can’t understand humans, because this wolf is too big to be a wolf. It doesn’t answer, as one should expect from a wolf. “Usually the monsters get me.”

At this, another low whine slips from it. You pet it absentmindedly, wondering when you’ll wake up. Typically, when you realize you’re dreaming again, you wake right back up. This doesn’t seem to be the case tonight, however. And that wound on your arm is smarting. 

“This… this isn’t a dream, is it?” You ask.

The wolf shakes its head. You stare at it in astonishment. There it is, confirmation that this wolf understands you and that this isn’t a dream.

You stand on shaking legs, scoffing. The wolf moves as if to help you stand, then hesitates. 

“I can’t… do this right now, I’m sorry. Creepy stone men that try to kill me and wolves that can understand me are enough crazy for one night, thank you very much.”

The wolf stares at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear it was smiling. 

“Well, thanks for the save,” you clear your throat and look at your shoulder with a wince. “I guess I’ll never forget you.”

The wolf whines again when you make to leave. You sigh. “What, do you want to walk me home or something?” The beast steps forward. “Okay,” you nod. “Alright, fine. Um. Cool. I hope this doesn’t mean you expect any food because I’m literally broke and don’t have any… wolf food… in my apartment.”

The wolf snorts. Okay, yeah, you’re losing your mind.

You start towards the building again, feeling far safer with this gigantic monster at your side than you have ever felt walking down a dark street in the middle of the night. It keeps to the side of the road that the woods border, the shadows of the trees cloaking its massive form as it easily keeps pace with you with its long legs.

“So, if I’m really going crazy,” you say slowly, “and you really understand me… are you able to tell me what the hell that thing was back there?”

The wolf looks at you curiously, but shakes its head.

“Okay. Um.” You breathe through puckered lips thoughtfully. “Are you a boy?” It shakes its head ‘no’. “A girl?” A nod. The action looks so strange on the animal, you’re again caught off-guard. “Oh. Okay. Cool. Girls looking out for girls. I respect it.” The wolf snorts again, a low rumble that almost sounds like laughter coming from its chest. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve never talked to a six-foot-tall wolf before. I don’t know what to ask you about.” You huff a little, though a smile is pulling at your lips. You see your apartment complex clearly, now, the parking lot illuminating the night like a beacon of safety. The wolf begins to slow her pace, so you follow suit and eye her curiously.

“So… whatever that guy was,” you begin quietly. “Should I… expect more of them?”

The wolf hesitates before giving a slow, cautious nod. 

“Then… should I expect you, too?” 

When the wolf nods again, she wags her tail. 

“Okay,” you release a shuddering breath. “Okay, cool. Well, I’ll… see you around, then?”

The wolf steps towards you, lowering her head. You pet her between her ears, feeling far more relaxed now than you had been before. The pain in your shoulder is starting to get to you, now, but the bleeding stopped quicker than you thought it would. The wolf eyes your wound when you remove your palm from her head, a flash of worry in her gaze.

“It’s fine,” you assure her, gesturing to the scratch. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.”

You can’t quite shake the concern that rises in you when the wolf only stares solemnly at you in response. You give a final wave goodbye to your odd companion before crossing the dead street. Once you reach the entrance, a beautiful sound catches your attention. Ominous and haunting, it fills the night with one of nature’s most ancient and haunting melodies: the call of the wolf.

- - -

“You hear about the transfer from Columbia?” Darcy asks casually as she takes the desk next to yours. 

“How the hell would I hear about a transfer from Columbia?” You scoff.

“She was at the party on Saturday.” She shrugs, pulling their bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s totally your type, I’m surprised you didn’t notice her.”

“And what, pray tell, is my type?” You eye your friend with a suspicious snort. 

You and Darcy Lewis have been best friends since fifth grade, when your mom’s first holistic phase lead to an insanely restrictive diet and you promised Darcy your eternal friendship in exchange for some of her animal crackers. Needless to say, you have no plans on breaking that promise any time soon.

Darcy wasn’t much of a partygoer, either, but finals have had her stressed, too, and once she gets a few shots in her Darcy becomes the life of the party. You hadn’t told her about your encounter with the wolf, as you hadn’t seen the animal since. The wound had nearly been gone yesterday and by today all that remained of it was a sliver of a scar that looked as though it had been there forever. 

Still, the encounter haunts the edges of your mind. 

“Your type,” Darcy begins slowly, catching your attention again. “Is what you were bullied by in high school. The hot jocks.”

Your jaw drops. “What? That’s not even remotely true.”

“Remember Carol two years ago?”

You groan. “That’s not fair, she’s broken like twenty hearts since then.”

“Right. And what about back in high school, that cheerleader? Hailee?”

“I’m pretty sure we agreed to never speak her name again.”

“My point,” the brunette smacks her hands on the desk conclusively. “Is that your type are hot girls with big guns and nice buns.”

“I wish I could unhear that sentence.”

“Don’t even lie, that was-”

“Hi, can I sit here?” A voice behind you pulls your attention away from Darcy and suddenly you’re tongue tied. A girl with long, dark hair is standing at the desk beside you, eyebrow raising questioningly when you don’t give an immediate response.

“Whoa, what a coincidence!” Darcy’s voice is too chipper, you immediately know you’ve been caught in your gay panic. “Kate Bishop, right? From Columbia?” Well, shit.

“Yep,” Kate tucks one of her hands bashfully into the pocket of her varsity jacket while the other drops her bag on the floor beneath the desk. She slides into the seat and gives a lazy smile that shows off her dimples. Holy shit. “What’s the coincidence? Were you talking about me or something?”

Her icy blue eyes cast between you and Darcy before landing on you. A shock of familiarity washes over you, though you can’t quite place the feeling. 

“We were, actually,” Darcy says at the same time as you say, “No, we weren’t.”

Kate laughs, her rich voice almost a growl as she says, “That’s comforting. Nothing bad, I hope?” Again, her gaze shifts to you in a strange way, as if silently communicating a question that you can’t pick up on.

“Not at all.” Darcy assures. “I was just telling (Y/N) about how you got your scholarship for archery. (Y/N)’s got a bit of a thing for the athletic arts.”

You cringe. “Darce-”

“Athletic arts?” Kate repeats with a snort. “I’ve never heard that one before.” She gives you a sly grin. “Does your friend always try to set you up like this?”

“Pretty much,” you nod, blushing. 

“Hey!” Darcy protests. 

Mercifully, the professor shows up and requests silence from the class.

As the lecture goes on, you often find yourself looking at Kate. Sometimes, you think you sense her looking at you, too, but when you try and catch her she’s casually looking ahead as if she hadn’t moved at all. 

You can’t shake that odd tugging in the back of your mind. That sense of familiarity. Maybe you had seen her at the party, and forgotten? That couldn’t be possible. Your gay little mind wouldn’t let you forget her. 

As much as you hated to admit it, Darcy was right. Kate Bishop is certainly your type. She takes off her purple and black jacket halfway through class, her tank top exposing strong biceps. You knew archery worked out like, all of your arm and shoulder muscles, but like, wow. Beyond that, Kate’s softer features are so disarmingly beautiful you have to force yourself to pay attention to the class you pay for the longer you look at her.

Finally, as the lecture comes to an end and the chatter of your peers once again fills the room, you allow yourself to get a good look at the archer. Only to find that Kate is looking right back at you, a smile on her lips.

“Can I get your number?” She asks.

A blush is back on your cheeks. “Y-yeah, totally.”

The brunette gives you her phone and you try to pretend your hands aren’t shaking as you type your number into a new contact. She’s already gathered her things by the time you give the phone back to her.

“I’ll see you around, (Y/N),” she says with a wink, stunning you further into silence as she turns to leave. 

“You need to trust me more.” Darcy states cheekily.

“Shut up.” You huff. 

What a weird fucking week.

- - -

Unknown hey :) it’s kate  well obviously it’s me, you probably dont give out your number often  unless you do in which case, hi, it’s kate from womens studies

You chuckle at the texts, earning a knowing glance from Darcy. She looks too cocky for her own good, so you stick your tongue out at her.

hey :) i was wondering when you’d finally text me

God, you hope that wasn’t too desperate. It’s not like you were waiting for your phone to buzz or anything. Not at all. It’s not like any low sound during the past class sent you grabbing for your phone. Not even a little.

Kate haha good to know im on your mind  i wanted to ask when your last class was?

Your pulse quickens. Holy shit, is she asking you out? Already? You’ve barely recovered from your first encounter!

5. asking a girl out after just meeting her huh? 

Too bold?

“Jesus, you look like a fourteen year old.” Darcy snorts, trying to look over your shoulder at your screen. You tuck the object close to your chest and scowl at her.

“What, you try to set me up and then get salty when it works?” You accuse.

She grins. “So it is Kate that’s got you all heart-eyed.”

“Shut up,” you whine and she cackles.

Kate well when i see what i like i tend to get it ;) can i treat you to a coffee?

“You really should be thanking me for setting you up with your dream girl.” Darcy hums. “Maybe throw me a party. Have a cake with my face on it. Oh, and of course, I need a ten minute dedication at your wedding-”

“She’s asking me out for one coffee,” you roll your eyes and blush as you text an affirmative to Kate. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right, sure it doesn’t. Like your texts aren’t nauseating.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll let you have a speech at the wedding but I’m limiting you to eight minutes because my parents are gonna spend their two minutes talking about the divorce.”

“Well it did turn their only child gay.”

You share her laughter and wipe away a tear that doesn’t exist. You have no idea where you’d be without Darcy.

- - -

Kate looks anxious when you approach, but it appears to melt the moment she sees you as a lazy smile stretches across her face. She greets you with a one-armed hug that feels strangely natural, and doesn’t remove it once she starts towards the coffee shop at the edge of campus.

“You’re from New York?” You ask, hoping you don’t sound as breathless as you feel with her unusually warm pressed against yours.

“I am,” Kate confirms. “What about you? You always live around the State College area?”

“Nah. Arizona, actually. When my parents split, dad moved to Oregon and mom moved us out here. I was eleven, but honestly I think I like the coast better. It’s so peaceful up here.”

Kate momentarily stiffens but covers it easily by saying, “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s kinda why I came here, too.”

“Why did you transfer? Penn State is a good school, but it’s no Columbia.”

“No, it’s not,” Kate chuckles. “But I needed to get away from the city.”

The coffee shop soon comes into view and Kate separates from you to hold the door open.

“What a gentlewoman,” you tease softly as she rejoins your side, though she doesn’t put her arm around you this time, much to your dismay. 

“For you? Always.” Kate winks playfully as she eyes the menu. “So, you’re the expert here. What’s good?”

“Can’t go wrong with a hot chocolate,” you suggest. “Or a mocha, if coffee’s your thing. Which it probably is, I mean, you asked me to come to a coffee shop-”

Kate laughs at your rambling and places a hand on your lower back. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Um- yeah, sorry, it’s been a while since I… dated.” You excuse lamely, to which the archer only hums with a smirk.

“Well, if it helps, I’m nervous around you, too.”

You scoff. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it to make you feel better and ‘cause it’s true.” Kate’s expression becomes thoughtful as her blue gaze searches yours. “You make me very nervous, (Y/N).”

The way she says it sends a shiver down your spine.

Kate orders two hot chocolates as you stand in stunned silence.

While the drinks are being made, she makes light conversation about the classes she’s taken on and how different the student body seems here. It’s a bit odd, how quickly she goes from that bouncing energetic goofball to seductress and back again in a span of minutes. It’s insanely hot, though, and thankfully you haven’t spotted any red flags yet.

When your drinks are finished, you take your respective seats on one of many lounge chairs littering the small, cozy space. 

She tells you a little bit about her past; she comes from money and went to private schools and is happy to make jokes about her privileged upbringing. She did martial arts throughout her childhood and picked up archery very young. She was going to take over her mom’s company, but for some vague reason or another, that doesn’t appear to be in Kate’s future so she’s finishing her degree and figuring it out from there.

You allow yourself to open up about your own childhood, sharing ridiculous stories and schemes you went through with Darcy. You talk about your parents divorce lightly, figuring that a deeper dive is a third or fourth date topic, and about your ambition to become an animal rehabilitator like your father. Kate relates to you on the admiration of your father, though your own is more distant than hers had been and not just in the literal sense.

By the time you finish your hot chocolates, they’re lukewarm and the sun has long since set. Kate offers to walk you home, and you have no thoughts in your mind to deny her. It’s amazing, how easily conversation flows between you as if you’d known each other for years. It makes your heart soar and your stomach erupt with butterflies.

As you come upon your apartment complex, Kate faces you with a timid smile. 

“I really like hanging out with you, (Y/N),” she says, eyeing where your arms are still intertwined. 

“Yeah, I like hanging out with you, too,” you respond breathily, blinking up at her. 

Kate’s blue eyes glimpse down at your lips, her warm breath filling the small distance between you. For a wonderful moment, you wonder if she’s going to lean in and kiss you.

But the sharp ring of her cellphone fills the air and breaks the moment. She releases your arm with an apologetic smile that melts the moment she looks at the screen. She curses under her breath.

“Sorry, this- it’s important. I’ll text you later?”

You nod, mind still fogged from your almost-kiss. “Y-yeah, sure. Okay.”

“Hey.” Kate answers her phone as you open the entrance of your building. “Yeah. Sorry. I lost track of time…”

Once you’re home safely, you close your front door with a sigh. You shrug off your jacket and set it on the back of a dining chair before heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. You absentmindedly touch the scar on your shoulder, moving your arm awkwardly so that you can properly look at the mark.

Strangely, it feels alive tonight. Not sore, or necessarily tender. But tingly.

A distant howl makes you jump.

Another fact you’ve learned since the party that hasn’t left your mind:

There are no wild wolves in Pennsylvania.

- - -

The last sliver of the moon squints through the forest, casting dark shadows in the deepest wilds that mankind rarely ventures through. Here, it is easy to lose oneself in the ancient history of the land; the cradling pines and rough mountain sides that seem to have shaped life itself into being.

For years, tales of strange creatures roaming these untamed lands have passed from storyteller to storyteller. Giant wolves that seem to vanish in the blink of an eye, ghostly howls that foretell one’s own death. These fables have existed long before the European settlers arrived, for these lands have always held a natural power.

Tonight, the evening air is full of the nocturnal songs of the forest. Owls out on the hunt, frogs and insects calling out into the night. And, of course, the low howl of one of mankind’s most ancient and terrible enemies: the wolf.

A large, black body weaves through the trees and lifts its head to respond to the call. Its speed goes beyond that of an average wolf, its enormous body nearly six feet tall as its long limbs lope over the foliage.

The wolf comes to a skidding halt once a familiar cabin comes into view. Another wolf waits for her there, his dark gray muzzle lowering the instant he sees her.

You’re late, he reminds through their packbond, the growl in his chest nonthreatening.

The black wolf lowers her head, her ears flattening slightly. I was- 

We know where you’ve been, a third wolf, smaller in size but still bigger than a normal wolf, approaches from around the cabin with a wagging tail. Her coat is a lighter gray with streaks of gold and red like autumn leaves. Fury is… not happy. 

Blue eyes avert to the ground as the black wolf paws at the dirt. It was just one coffee… it doesn’t have to mean anything… 

Good luck telling him that, Bishop, the blonde wolf teases, lowering her tail again. 

Enough teasing, Yelena, a red wolf joins the small group. Fury is getting more and more impatient by the second. I think Wanda is going to strangle him. 

Kate sighs as the sisters begin to lead the way around the cabin. The first wolf, the gray one, nudges her side softly with his muzzle.

I know you feel drawn to her, he offers a sympathetic whine. But she’s too important. If you let yourself be distracted, we could lose everything. 

Around the back of the cabin, and the rest of their pack are now visible. A pack such as this is most unusual, especially for werewolves who, by nature, are family creatures. Not an ounce of blood is shared between these wolves, though. Just a strong sense of loyalty and nobility that binds them together, stronger than any blood ties.

The remaining wolves would be Fury, the unspoken leader of their pack who stands tall at the head of the circle with his scarred, red-brown muzzle raised high. His singular eye settles on Kate briefly before taking in the rest of the circle. Then there’s Bruce, whose own wolf form towers over the rest, gray as soot with smatters of black on his paws. Thor, the second biggest, looks almost radiant under the moonlight with his golden pelt. Lastly, there’s Carol, who stands beside Fury with a coat as silver as starlight, her eyes landing on Kate with unreadable emotions lingering through the bond.

The rest, though not werewolves, are Tony, an alchemist, Wanda, a witch, Vision, a golem, and Sam and Bucky, vampires. There’s a thick tension among the circle as Wanda begins to chant a concealment spell that will keep outside forces from listening to their conversations. Next, she goes around the circle and murmurs strange words.

The wolves shift uncomfortably at the sense of magic in the air. Steve and Bucky exchange grimaces; though Wanda has long since learned how to keep her spells from affecting them, particularly the wards, it doesn’t stop them from feeling a heavy pressure on their chests. They’re not supposed to enter these spells, but Wanda is a particularly powerful witch.

At last, her final spell opens the circles’ minds to one another, allowing outsiders a glimpse into the strong mental bond that links the werewolves to one another.

Friends, warriors, Fury begins with a low growl, the legend, I fear, is true. The Long Night is at our doorstep, and the Dawnbringer must become our priority. Her protection is the protection of life itself. 

There’s a stirring among the wolves. Tony scoffs.

“Legends,” he mutters scornfully. “Prophecies. I’ve seen and heard plenty of those, thank you very much.”

You have witnessed many, this is true, Fury concedes politely, but have they not been for the betterment of mankind? Have you not watched as light conquers darkness, over and over?

“Good and evil are transparent concepts,” the alchemist shrugs. “Completely subjective.”

And in what world is a night that doesn’t end come off as ‘subjectively’ evil? Snorts Clint, equal parts amused and appalled.

“The world of the vampires.” Tony says flatly, nodding in the direction of Steve and Bucky. “The world of night hunters, like wolves.” He nods to the wolves. “The world of shadows.”

But this is our world, Natasha protests. Our natural world. The prophecy states that the Long Night will turn nature against nature. As an alchemist, surely you can appeal to that, Stark?

The older man crosses his arms stubbornly, but doesn’t argue. In truth, Tony Stark lost his love for the natural world centuries ago, around the same time as his immortality had lost its shine. One grows tired of monotony, and sometimes chaos can be a little fun.

But Natasha is right. He is an alchemist. A scientist. 

Chaos is dangerous. If the prophecy is to be taken literal, then yes, an eternal night that turns nature against itself would be catastrophic. 

Kate already knows her, Yelena pipes up, causing the black wolf to grunt. 

Oh, we know, Fury’s eye lands on Kate. She tries not to cower. Have you shown them?

It was one coffee- 

That’s not what I’m referring to. Fury flashes the image that Kate had shown them nights before, under the waning halfmoon, when she had scratched you during the attack. 

The pack comes alive with anxiety, all at once. This had been just between Kate, Fury, and Clint. Now that it’s out in the open, they’re all looking at Kate with a variety of emotions from anger to annoyance to fear to wonder. 

It was an accident! Kate whimpers. 

Accident or not, there’s no taking back what’s been done. Fury lifts his gray muzzle to the sky, noting the clouds beginning to pass over the moon. She was meant to choose, but if fate has chosen for her, then so be it. On the next full moon, she will be one of us, whether or not she is prepared to face her destiny. 

Kate’s stomach turns guiltily. She’s already doomed you to a fate you know nothing about. 

Until then, Fury continues, keep close to her. You remember what your first time was like. Bring her to us when she knows what you are. 

Kate nods. Yes, of course. Got it. 

She misses the jealous look Carol sends her.

And Kate, Fury’s chest rumbles with another growl. Time is not on our side, but try not to... frighten the girl.

When the gathering is dismissed, and the spells officially closed, Kate and Clint begin their trek towards the town home they share. Whenever asked, Clint tells strangers he’s Kate’s father in favor of answering some awkward prying questions. In truth, Clint is the closest to a father Kate has had in a long, long time. 

We don’t care if you’re interested in her like that, Clint abruptly interrupts their quiet running. 

But you were right. I shouldn’t distract her from her destiny. Kate whines softly. 

Maybe people have two destinies. 

Kate finds it hard to argue when Clint is so goddamn reasonable.

One thing was for certain: the future is closing its teeth around them. The prophecy is real and it’s true, and Kate has put an unwitting victim into fate’s unkind hands.

>>> next <<<<

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