#Supernatural creatures

[gothamslostboy]

POLL TWO HERE

REBLOG FOR BIGGER SAMPLE SIZE BC IK YALL MOSTLY GOING FOR VAMPIRE AROUND HERE

[fan-a-tink]

Emma's floating squid Dead Boy Detectives: Season 1, Episode 1

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

[harperwolfauthor]

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 16

We are really getting down the end here. I think I have two or three more chapters to go and then it's complete. There's a lot that happens at the end so don't know how long it will take but it's looking like chapter twenty will be the last.

So thank you to everyone who's stuck it out this long. I know there aren't many anymore but I love each and every one of you who did.

We get more clues and Wayne runs afoul an ex.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

~

Nancy chewed her lip as she flipped through the pages of the Hawkins Post trying to find anything that would spark her memory, but she was coming up empty. She was sure that there had been something that happened before Steve’s parents died.

“You know...” Wayne said gruffly after about an hour of them researching manticores, “you could just ask me. I’ve been around this town since it’s inception. There is very little I don’t remember.”

She let out a frustrated huff. “I just don’t remember when it was so I can’t even do that. It’s just this vague memory of there being an uproar in the pack. Which considering the upheaval this pack has had in the last twenty years, that really doesn’t narrow it down at all.”

Wayne clasped his hands over his mouth and looked at her for a moment. “You’re thinking too broadly.”

Nancy looked down at the newspaper in front of her with a frown and then back up at him.

“What do you mean?”

He laid his fists on the book in front of him and leaned forward toward her. “You’re what seventeen-eighteen?” She nodded. “It’s something you saw. Which means that it can’t be something longer than fifteen years ago as you’d be too little. But most likely it was probably closer to twelve or thirteen years ago as that’s when your core memories form. So what happened in the pack a dozen or so years ago?”

Nancy’s eyebrows furrowed deeper as she cast her mind back. She jumped up out of her chair and ran over to the side. She started scanning the correct year and pulled out another folio. She hurried back to the table where she began flipping through the pages like a woman on a mission.

She cried, “Eureka!” and turned it around so Eddie and Wayne could see.

May 23rd 1975

The Great Chicago Pack Has Announced the Banishment of One Dr. Alexei Oborin.

The former scientist had claimed that the five teenagers he found in the woods near the pack’s compound were hunters and that they attacked him first. However when other members of the pack arrived there were no signs of a struggle, only the mangled corpses of the three boys and two girls.

...

The article went on further to explain that the five teenagers who were traveling cross country were merely high school students who had wandered too close to the pack compound.

“This!” she cried when she was sure they had read enough. “It really spooked Hopper because it sounded like what had happened here, with Steve’s mom.”

Wayne nodded and looked up at Eddie who nodded too. He slid it back over to her.

“I remember that,” Wayne said, gruffly. “His mate swore up and down that Alexei was too gentle and childlike to have committed such things and that the kids must have goaded him into it.”

“What happened to the mate?” Eddie asked, jumping off the table and landed deftly on his feet, soft as a kitten. “The article didn’t say.”

Wayne shook his head. “It was never said, but most mates will willingly leave the pack to travel with the Banished One.”

“Banishment is such a big deal,” Nancy said, tapping her fingers on the table, the clack clack on her nails hitting the wood loud in the now quiet space. “It is reversible but only an alpha can do it.”

“It is,” Wayne agreed, “and it’s a shame that Steve had even threaten it to get the older members of your pack to behave.”

Nancy opened her mouth to argue but Eddie scoffed cutting her off without a word.

“You purebreds are all the same,” he muttered darkly. “Vampire, werewolf doesn’t matter. You can’t see the worth of anyone bitten. So sure that you are better than them. Steve’s half and as far as your pack is concerned it’s the wrong half. But he’s the only one standing between the pack and its annihilation at the hands of the vampire coven. And worse you have a fox in your hen house and it galls you that not only did Steve figure there was one, he figured out who it was and has been keeping him on a short leash. All without your help.”

Nancy glared at him, but he refused to blink, forcing her to look away first.

“You best see to the happenings in your pack, missy, before you go casting judgment on us.” Wayne growled. “You came in here like you owned the place, was rude to my nephew, and barked at me for offering to help. If Ed or I had been watching your moon night, we might know a hell of a lot more than we do now and I wouldn’t have to call in a favor from the last person I ever want to see again. And I know it was you that drove the final nail in the coffin of not having one of us there, so don’t you act high and mighty with me.”

She ducked her head and put her hands in her lap. She knew they were both right. It was the pack’s prejudice against vampires and outsiders as whole that had caused the incident unfold the way it did.

The key to this mystery lay in the incident with the hunters but she couldn’t figure out how.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy muttered, picking at her nail polish. “I just don’t know who to trust.”

Wayne scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, you do. You just need to put away your pride to do it.”

~

Eddie and Wayne walked out of the library squinting into the blaring sun.

Eddie chewed his lip thoughtfully. “This getting out of hand, and if his female alpha is against him, the older members of his pack are against him and the younger ones putting their trust in the adults, there is a traitor in his keepers, and plus all the shit with the education system building little hunters...” he shook his head. “His only allies are us, that keeper Buckley and that’s it.”

“Steve is being harried on every side,” Wayne said in all seriousness. “And I don’t know how to protect him.”

Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So we surround him with non-pack supes.”

“What do you mean, Ed?” Wayne asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I can’t involve Jeff, not with him being a part of the coven,” Eddie said, “but I have other friends who are supernatural beings. After all, if Steve is advocating for all supes they might be willing to protect him.”

Wayne nodded. After their time with Nancy he trusted the pack even less. There was something going on in this town that making it rot.

He clasped Eddie on the shoulder. “Go, gather your friends, I’ll meet up with you at the high school, I have my fish to fry.”

Eddie nodded and shifted, taking off in flight.

Wayne looked up at his nephew, now but black spot in the harsh daylight and shook his head. His boy had his heart in the right place, plus he didn’t want Eddie to know about who he was going to see.

~

Wayne started to relax in the setting sun and he began to unwind his protections. He pulled on his usual flannel and shoved the rest into his knapsack.

Just then a man oozed out of the shadows and smiled at him.

“I never expected to hear from you again,” the man muttered.

“Sam,” Wayne replied tersely. “I should have ripped you to pieces when I found out what you were.”

Dr. Sam Owen looked around him with a shrug and tilt of his head. “And leave this place without its staunch protector?”

Wayne growled, his fangs dropping and his eyes turning blood red.

“Don’t be like that, darling,” Sam cooed. “I told you before and I’m telling you again. That wasn’t my real wife or my real kids. I was undercover.”

“Yeah?” Wayne huffed. “That why you fucked her then? For your cover?”

Sam’s easy smile fell for the first time. “What?” His jaw was set in a hard line and gaze turned to steel.

Wayne laughed bitterly. “I could smell the stench of sex the moment I walked into that damned house. There were no other scents but yours and hers, so don’t you feed me some line.”

“I’ve heard of vampires having keen senses before but this one is new to me,” Sam said, excitement coloring his tone.

“If I didn’t need something from you,” Wayne spat, “I would fucking hit you right now. Are you really choosing to focus on my sense of smell after I just told you I knew you cheated on me?”

Sam straightened his spine. “Right, right. Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.” He gently brought a finger under Wayne’s chin. “She was a succubus.”

Wayne’s head rocked back and away from his finger. “You telling me right now, demons exist?”

“I don’t know why that is such a surprise,” Sam said, cocking his head to the side as he regarded Wayne’s reaction with curiosity. “Fae, djinn, roc, wendigos, vampires, sirens, selkies, set animals, aqrabuamelu all exist why would demons be the exceptions?”

Wayne glared at him. “Because dragons, unicorns, actual fucking gods don’t exist, so yeah I figured heaven and hell were off the table too.”

Sam shook his head. “No, no. Demons aren’t of hell. Not in the way certain religions believe. But gumiho exist and so do incubi and succubi. The latter two smell strongly of intercourse. It’s a kind of pheromone they give off when distressed.”

“I–I didn’t know,” Wayne muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor.

He took a step toward Wayne and cupped his cheeks. “I should have sought you out after you ran off, I knew where you were, I could have come and cleared up the misunderstanding, but I didn’t. This is on me entirely. What ever you want, whatever you need. Just ask and I’ll grant it.”

Wayne looked up into the agent’s eyes. “Can you get me all the information on the banishment of Dr. Alexei Oborin?”

“Done.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head gently out of Sam’s grasp. “You aren’t going to ask what for?”

“No,” Sam said with a smirk. “Because I know you, Wayne. You are one tough son of a bitch, but your instinct is rarely wrong. I’ve come to rely on that fact.”

“There are some pretty weird shit going down in this town, Sam,” he growled. “It’s making the air feel like just before an electric storm. Cackling with danger and the smell of ozone.”

Sam nodded. “We’ve been looking into some things since the Harrington alpha was attack. I don’t know if our two investigations are related, but I don’t see how they can be.”

“You aren’t keeping shit from me, are you Sam?” Wayne asked, cocking his head to the side.

The agent sighed. “It’s not keeping it from you if I can’t tell you what I’m working on. You know that.”

“If there is something with that boy that you aren’t telling me,” Wayne growled, “I will rip your balls off.”

“Wayne...I’m investigating. I don’t know anything yet.” Sam rubbed his face in frustration.

The vampire eyed him warily, but nodded. “I want those files as soon as you can.”

“I promise.”

Wayne walked away from Sam and then transformed, taking flight. Below the agent looked up at the winged creature and sighed.

This complicated matters.

~

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: SEVENTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras

[postmortemnivis]

If Dean had to die right this instant, he’d die a happy man, seeing last his most prized possession. 

The Impala roared to life as he pulled out of the parking lot of the motel he’d been staying at, and he thought that it resembled the roar of the king of the beasts, aggressive and noble. 

Sometimes Dean thought of himself as a lion, proud, courageous and assertive. He sure felt like one when he was hunting, stalking his preys, circling them before ambushing, never leaving any survivors. Never hunting in prides, he preferred to take care of his victim by himself, hardly ever accompanied by more than two other predators, but still leading the hunt. Or maybe he’d nuzzle his nose into his prey’s neck and shoulders, leaving soft kisses at the exposed skin before whispering sweet words in their ears, words he rarely ever meant.

That second type of hunt was the one he preferred, the one he needed to take the edge off from the main ones, the ones that left deeper scars and marks on his body than the other.

Rolling his window down, he sighed contently as one of his favourite albums started playing on the old stereo, running a hand through his messy hair, not having bothered to cut or properly comb it in weeks.

Harvey, another hunter he’d met when he was still a young man, following his father and his orders anywhere on the passenger seat of the Impala, had called that morning and informed him of a series of supernatural looking disappearances down a highway California, and Dean was set on finding out what was causing it.

The ride, albeit filled with old rock playing in the background, was surprisingly silent. In the past years Dean had grown close again to his brother, and he’d gotten used to Sam reading some lore out loud, discussing their theories on what they could be about to face, but the passenger seat was now empty. 

If Dean was anything, it was a family man. He’d lost the count of the times he’d put Sam’s life before his own without even thinking about it. It had become automatic, he had been doing it ever since Sam was born and he had never learned to live without doing it.

Without Sam and Bobby, Dean felt incredibly alone, helpless.

He missed pretending to detest Bobby’s cooking, Sam’s terrible singing during long rides and stupidly healthy diet, the sharp tone Bobby would use when picking up the phone or watching the game with them in Bobby’s living room with a cold beer in his hand, feet propped up on the coffee table that was covered in old lore books, empty beer cans and bullet shells scattered everywhere around the house.

Losing Bobby was worse than losing his own father, even if he hated himself for even thinking that.

He could try and lie to himself, telling himself he was better off alone, acting like he preferred to lead a solitary life, a lone wolf. He could lie all he wanted, but the lonely nights weighted on his weary soul like the whole world on Atlas’ shoulders. 

Deep down, he craved it, to love and feel loved. He could blame his mother for dying, or his father for preferring his brother their whole lives, when Dean, ever the obliging soldier, hanged from each of his father’s words, while all Sam did was challenge him.

Ironically, it was as God preferred Lucifer to Michael, the rebel son to the devoted one. Dean and Sam really would’ve been the perfect vessels to fight each other, the true match the biblical brothers could’ve used to battle the other for one last time, if the Winchesters hadn’t found their way out of that.

Kansas was playing, and like every time, Dean couldn’t help but think of his old house, his first and only one. The memories were blurry, singed by the same fire that had torn his family apart many years before. He remembered how he could smell the cherry pie baking in the oven while he was playing in the backyard with his father, his brother’s soft fusses as his mother would coo at him and sing to him to calm him down. He could almost see it in the darkness of the open road, he could almost touch his mother’s nightgown, but all his memories really were just like dust in the wind.

Without even noticing, Dean had been driving for hours, crossing state lines and he struggled to recognise in the dark the California highway he was on. 

Dean grabbed his phone from the passenger seat and dialed Harvey's number before bringing the phone to his ear.

“This is Harvey, currently I’m not available. Leave a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can.” The recorded voice told Dean, who groaned, tightening his grip on the wheel.

“Harvey, man, it’s Dean. Listen, I’m in the middle of the desert, just off I-40. Where was that place you told me about?”

All he could think about was crashing on a motel bed after chugging down half a bottle of scotch.

The motel led insignia looked almost like a mirage, and Dean pulled inside the empty parking lot, the only other car there looked like it must’ve been parked there for at least ten years, judging from its conditions.

Dean wearily got out of the car and grabbed his old duffle bag from the trunk before locking it and heading for the reception.

As he walked inside, he caught a whiff of old lady’s perfume, cigarettes and air freshener.

An old man, probably in his late sixties, sat behind the wooden desk, smoking as he flipped through the pages of a newspaper. The few hairs he had left were oily and the plaid shirt he was wearing was stained too.

“Evening.” The man grinned up at Dean, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “Welcome to the Sunset Dunes Inn.”

“Thanks.” Dean muttered, dropping his bag at his feet. “A single. Just for tonight.”

“That’ll be 95, son, unless you want a deluxe. It’s bigger and it has a beautiful desert view, the sunsets are to die fo-”

“I’ll take the basic one.” Dean replied, grabbing his wallet and pulling out four twenty dollar bills.

The man looked at Dean through his brows before he inhaled more smoke, placing in front of the hunter the guests register. “Alright, I’ll need a signature here then.”

The hunter signed as Steve Gaines before reaching for his bag again.

“Marge!” The man called, and a woman not younger than fifty five popped her head out of the back door. She was taller than the man Dean thought to be her husband, but she shared his same slimy look. “Key to room six.” 

As Marge, with a nod, went to fetch the key, the man looked back at Dean.

“Care to take a brochure?”

“I’m not staying for long.” Dean replied, shaking his head.

The man furrowed his brows. “I understand. Take one anyway, see for yourself our town.”

“Is there a diner around here?” He finally gave in and grabbed the dusty brochure the man was handing him.

“Just two miles to the left into town, hard to miss, it’s the only one.” Marge suddenly chirped up, back with Dean’s keys as she passed it to him.

“Thanks…” He muttered before walking back outside, walking down to room six.

He looked again around the empty parking lot, studying the hot night as he tried to come up with an explanation as to why they’d placed him in room six instead of one, it surely wasn’t because they were busy.

He glanced down at the brochure, which seemed as old as the owners of the motel.

Aurelia, it read, apparently located between the Nevada Border and Palm Springs, in the middle of the Mojave Desert. 

Founded in 1852 during the Gold Rush Era, was born as a mining town, now a hidden oasis not many know. Surrounded by red rock canyons, it is also known as The Golden Mirage, Jewel of the Desert, the town where the Old West meets the 20th century…

“How freakin’ old is this thing…” Dean muttered to himself.

As he looked at the passing doors for his, the flickering lights on the porch finally seemed to work, and Dean caught a glimpse of a figure standing on a doorway.

“Welcome to the Sunset Dunes Inn.”

He turned and was met with your face.

He’d met many angels in the past few years, maybe too much for his liking and surely more than the average person, and could say that you were just as gracious as the angels he’d encountered. Your face, the way your eyes shined in the dark and your lips wrapped around the cigarette you had just lit. This was his hell and heaven at the same time, the few feet of distance between the two of you was the only enemy he had in his mind.

“Thanks.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. He was never nervous around women, stand alone pretty ones, but something about you felt completely different from any other woman Dean had ever seen in his whole life. 

“You’ll like it here,” you hummed, “it’s a really lovely town.”

“I’m not staying.” He found himself saying for a second time that night, only this time regretting it.

You raised both your eyebrows. “Oh? Just passing through?”

“You don’t get many tourists, do you?” Dean pointed out, looking down at you.

“We’re in an isolated area,” you explained, careful to exhale the smoke away from his face, “we get occasional travellers like you, we don’t get that many new faces.”

You silently handed your cigarette to him and he inhaled a few drags before returning it to you. Surprised by his own action, Dean furrowed his brows. He wasn’t a smoker, had never been one to fall into deadly vices, apart from hunting and alcohol. He felt like he would’ve done anything that you asked him to do, even throw himself down a cliff, if there had been any around.  

The soft breeze whispered in his ears, messing up his hair as he couldn’t find it in himself to stop looking at you. It sounded almost like an old song, a secretive whisper. The swish and whoosh could almost resemble words, voices carried from afar.

“You live here or something?”

You chuckled. “Yes, my parents are the owners.”

“Oh.”

How did Slimy and Grandma manage to pop out one like this? Dean thought to himself. 

“I just come here to visit, though. I moved to L.A. a few years ago.” You explained with a chuckle. “There wasn’t really much to do here after high school.”

Before Dean could answer, you pointed behind him. “That yours?”

Dean nodded at the Impala.

“Sweet ride. It’s the nice kind of old, y’know?” You finished your cigarette, stomping it on the ground, and Dean blinked, hanging from your every word.

“Was my old man’s.”

“Mine’s that one.” You pointed at car on the other side of the lot, beside the rusty one he’d first seen, and he could’ve sworn it wasn't there when he’d parked his.

“Which room?” You hummed.

“Six.”

“Next door, neighbor.” You smiled, and Dean glanced at the number on the door next to yours. Indeed six, big and brassed.

“So…” he was dying to keep the conversation going, “how’s the big life in Los Angeles treating you? You one of those brainless valley girls yet?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m still a small town girl, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to living in a big city.”

“I’m sure it can be fun,” he retorted, “you can meet more people than here.”

“That’s for sure. But I miss my friends from Aurelia, you know? That’s why I visit as much as I do. The people are so different there…”

Dean held back a yawn. He’d been on the road for the whole day, and could barely feel his legs any more. “Do you have anything to drink? Strong, possibly?”

You shook your head. “Sorry, Pop hasn’t kept alcohol around here since he married my mother in ‘69. He’s gone all Catholic, won’t even eat meat on Fridays and during Lent.”

“Must’ve been hell not having a liquor cabinet to steal from in high school.” Dean chuckled, admiring the way your hair ever so gracefully framed your face. Straight outta renaissance painting, he decided, just like a dream.

“If you want, I have some sodas.”

He shook his head, cursing himself for being so human, so tired. “I think I’ll go to sleep, thanks.”

“Sure, goodnight.”

“Night.” He replied before unlocking his door and getting in.

Dean dropped his duffle at the end of the bed and kicked his boots off before cracking open the window looking around the room, cleaner than the motel accommodations he was used to.

With a tired groan, he lay down on the bed, not bothering to pull back the duvet.

He started brainstorming ideas, he still needed to be sharp for the case. What could be snatching people off the highway? A woman in white, perhaps a ghost, or even a Crocotta… he’d ask you if there were any local legends in the area the following morning, even if he wanted to just knock on your door and spend the night with you.

As he tried to sleep, the wind would softly blow in the room, dancing with the curtains, whispering in his ears. He couldn’t tell if the long drive was getting the best of him and he was starting to hear voices, hallucinating, or if someone was actually talking outside, but he was too tired to care.

Dean was used to nightmares, he’d wake up sweaty in the middle of the night at least three times a week, usually recurring nightmares from his time in Hell, but dreams about girls… that was new even for him. Although he consumed more porn than the average person should, he’d rarely ever dreamt of women–the weight of his job heavy even on his psyche–and surely enough never women he’d just met, but you’d found your way into his mind, his dreams.

It all felt so real and lucid, Dean couldn’t tell if it was really you undressing in front of him, but he couldn’t get out of it, not that he was complaining anyway, the way your soft curves looked in the feeble light from his bedside lamp made him crazy.

His forehead and palms were sweaty as he tried to reach for you.

“Tut-tut…” you murmured as you slipped out of your jeans, “I want something first.”

Dean pathetically nodded. “A-anything.”

“Look up.”

As he was following your instructions, the first pale rays of the sunrise made him scrunch his eyes before they fluttered open.

He blinked a few times, his eyes met the mirror on the ceiling. He asked himself if it was some subliminal message his subconscious was sending him, maybe that he needed to get laid? He’d taken a girl back to his motel room just two nights before, it wasn’t that, it was something different. Different, like you from any girl he’d ever set eyes on in his lifetime. He needed to have you in a consuming way, one that made him ache for you even though you were just next door.

Next door.

He quickly sat up and tied his combat boots back on, immediately springing up and heading towards the door.

The early morning air was bitter, too cold, and Dean had to admit to himself that the sunrise might’ve just been as beautiful as the sunset he’d experienced while on the road the previous evening, the cool purples and blues making it feel almost unreal.

He took a deep breath, nothing but fresh air and- cigarettes again.

“You’re up early.” You noticed.

He turned to face you, just as breathless as the night before.

“Could say the same about you.”

“I have a reason, helping my parents with cleaning. What’s your excuse?” You hummed, inhaling smoke like you were immune to cancer.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, almost shy to look at you, as if he had desecrated your body by dreaming about it. If he looked close enough he could catch glimpses of what was underneath the almost see through camise you apparently wore to sleep. 

“So… you getting ready to leave?”

Dean never hated hunting more than he did right that moment. “Yeah…”

“Oh… Have breakfast with me, at least? Before I won’t ever see you again?” You mused.

Just as Dean was about to get into your room, his phone buzzed to life, and he noticed that the mirrors in your room were all covered by sheets.

It was Harvey, peskily sending him message after message.

> You’re close

> Got word that people are disappearing from this little town called Aurelia, at least four people never checked out of this Sunset Inn motel or something. 

> Also checked in with Rudy Moser from FL, thinks it could be a siren lurking people in.

> Me n Rudy are a call away if you need backup, man.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks.

“What?”

“Gotta grab something first.” He muttered, quickly making his way to the Impala and opening the trunk. He rummaged through various weapons before finding the bronze dagger he was looking for. Watching your motel door over the edge of the open trunk, where you were standing, he hissed and bit onto his bottom lip as he used the blade to cut through the skin of his palm.

Dean hid the dagger in the waistband of his jeans before shutting the truck close and walking back to you, putting a smile on his face.

“Everything alright?” You asked.

If you were what Dean thought you were, he had to be careful about what he thought about you. “Yeah, just checking something.”

 His lie tasted bitterly on his tongue, and you could almost sense it.

You opened the door wider to let him in, before Dean abruptly shut it behind himself, looking at you with hooded eyes. He locked the door and took a step towards you.

“What are you?”

“I’m me-”

“No, you’re not human, you’re a monster.” Dean growled, grabbing his dagger.

“I- no-”

“Cut the crap.” He barked, and he almost grew in size too, standing so tall a flash of fear shot in your eyes.

“What do you want me to say, then? That I’m just what you hunt? Probably the whole reason why you’re here in California, Dean? Oh, yes, I know who you are. Who doesn’t these days?”

“Are you going to put up a fight or go down quietly?” He snarled, taking another step closer to you, holding his dagger tighter as you backed away. “Is it you?”

“I don’t-”

“You just confessed, it’s useless to lie now!” He pushed you to your bed.

“Do you want me to admit it? I know you’re looking for those missing people- why do you think you’re in room six? Their rotting bodies are all in the other rooms, piling up!”

Those were probably the voices that Dean had been hearing, now finally understanding their whispers as an advice to run for his life. “God, baby…” He almost dropped his weapon. “Breaking my freakin’ heart and we haven’t even slept together.”

“But I can’t stop, I’ve been doing so good in L.A., nobody cares if four people a week go missing, that’s normal there…I can’t stop, Dean, can’t change who I am.” You whined so pathetically Dean could almost believe you. “Oh, Dean, you have to believe me…”

“You’re a siren.” He finally muttered. “So pretty and you can’t even stand to look at yourself in a mirror…”

“Dean…” You breathed as he lifted the dagger to your neck, starting to press the blade into your soft skin. 

“I really wish there was another way…” Dean breathed on your skin, he could smell how good your hair smelled, how beautiful you looked now that he was so close to you.

You weren’t violent, Dean had understood that much, and you closed your eyes, accepting your cursed fate.

“No survivors behind…” He hissed to himself, still holding the bloody bronze dagger by your neck, before getting off of you and cleaning his blood off the blade on his jeans.

“Wha- no!” You protested, stumbling to get up. “You’re supposed to kill me! I can’t- I can’t live like this anymore, with who I am!” 

“Sorry, sweetheart, guess you’ll have to learn how to.” The hunter mumbled, rubbing his eyes, tired. 

“No, kill me!” You commanded, and the poison that was now flowing through his veins almost made him obey your order.

“No…” Dean grunted, taking another step closer to the door, trying to put as much distance between you two as he could. “How do I get rid of… your spell, or whatever it is that you freaks do to your victims.”

You winced a little as he called you a freak.

“I don’t have all day.” He barked, and you, almost shyly, approached him.

As you raised your hands in surrender, Dean let you get close to him, and tried not to react as your lips brushed against his. All he wanted was to pull you back into him and kiss you senseless.

“You’re free.”

“How’d I know you’re not lyin’?” He questioned, wary as you took a step back.

“You haven’t killed me when you had the chance, some part of you trusts me, Dean.”

Dean sighed. “Only shame is that this pretty face isn’t real…” He reached up to brush his knuckles on your cheekbone.

“You won’t kill my parents either?” You chirped up.

He raised his brows. “They’re-?”

“I help them clean out the place from their occasional victims, guess they went too far out this time…”

“It was them?” Slimy and Grandma weren’t as harmless as they looked.

You nodded, looking away. “As I said, I help them with cleaning.”

He sighed. “Christ…”

“Dean-” You tried saying, taking one careful, measured step closer to him, but he reluctantly stopped you.

“Go back to Los Angeles.” He growled.

“Can’t…” You ran a hand through your hair, almost nervous.

Dean really didn’t understand, you could’ve killed him at any moment, he’d been under your spell this whole time, you could've told him to kill himself and he would’ve done it without even considering saying no to you, maybe even saying thank you.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

You sighed. “My parents… they're too old to do what they do, they need me.”

“Screw ‘em and leave.” Dean said, matter of factly.

“You clearly did not grow up with strict parents.” You snorted, and you didn’t know just how much Dean understood you. “I wish it was that easy…”

“So, you can't leave?”

“You go. Please, they’ll come for you too, check yourself out while you can, before it’s too late.”

He paused, sighing. He rubbed his temples.

You looked at him, expectantly.

“Useless to make eyes at me now, sweetheart…” he groaned with a grimace, “kinda ruins the mood when I know that you’re a hairless, ugly, gaunt thing. Hope you don’t take it personally-”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Knew you’d love this skin, though.”

“Oh, I loved it all right, until fifteen minutes ago.”

“You know I can read your mind, right?”

“Good for you, then you know how hard it is for me right now not to stab you in the eyeball.” He muttered.

“Meaning I can see your deepest desire, needs and… well, that dream last night? One hell of  a show.” You smirked.

“Glad you liked your own strip tease.” He grinned back at you.

You kissed his lips again, softly. “Goodbye, Dean.”

He paused, considering whether it’d be a good idea to do all the things he’d been dreaming about since the first moment he’d seen you, but then he took a step back. “Bye sweetheart, I better not see you ever again. Don’t get into any trouble, other hunters won’t be as stupid as I’m bein’ now…” 

You nodded with a gentle, grateful smile. “Won’t.”

Dean turned his back to you and walked back to his car before he could say, do anything else.

He sat in the car for a moment before dialing Harvey’s number. 

“Oh, for God’s sake, what if I was dying, man…” Dean groaned as his call was sent straight to voicemail again. “Harvey, it’s Dean. Checked that Sunset Dunes motel, it’s not there. I’m heading to the next town, maybe the siren’s on the road too. Check in with you tonight.” 

The Impala’s engine roared to life, a deep, guttural sound like a lion letting out a warning growl, its power vibrating through the metal frame. It was the same hunger that’d driven Dean for years—chasing, seeking, always so close—only then, it was no longer directed at the creature he’d let slip away. Instead, it was a growl of frustration, a raw reminder of the beast inside him that’d been tamed, held back, and left to howl in the silence of the desert night.

The open road was the one view Dean Winchester would’ve never gotten tired of, him and his car against the world, hunting things and saving people. Sometimes he’d take a moment and think of all the people he’d saved in his life, but never a monster.

He knew he was being unfair, he remembered how hard it had been when he heard the shot that loudly announced Madison’s death, and as he drove away from the Sunset Dunes Inn motel, he thought that maybe he wasn’t really clean of your poison, some of it still in his system, making it impossible for him to kill you, maybe there wasn't even a cure and you'd just pretended to cleanse him from you. Everything he believed in, killing monsters no matter how harmless they looked, crumbling down at the sight of your soft smile. 

He quickly decided that Sam was never supposed to know of what happened, and nodded to himself as the Eagles started playing from the stereo. Even if Sam was to find out, it was none of his business what Dean decided to do with his life when they weren’t together, it was Sam who wanted time apart anyway.

The wind kicked up dust behind him as he drove away. The Impala hummed along the long stretch of highway, empty for miles in either direction. 

His grip on the wheel was tight, knuckles white, but his mind—his heart—felt a thousand miles away from the road he was on.

But he’d let you go. 

The words still tasted bitter on his tongue, like swallowing dirt, but they were true. He'd let you slip away, yet your presence was still lingering in the dust and heat.

Dean could have done his job, should’ve. He should’ve turned the car around, gone back to the motel, made the call. Told Harvey everything, killed you. But there was something in his chest—a tugging, aching part of him—that made him hesitate.

The desert stretched out before him, silent and endless. There was nothing for miles but the occasional cactus, the mountains rising up like ghosts in the distance. He suddenly felt so small against it all, like a speck of dust on a windblown road.

But he was still driving. Heading west. Heading away from everything, from you. He’d spend a few days a few towns away before declaring the siren, you, gone forever, lost.

Maybe it was the heat that made his throat dry, or maybe it was the weight of what he’d just done, the lie he was about to tell. The decision sat heavy on his heart, but he had set his mind, no going back now.

Dean didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, he didn’t know if he wanted. Hell, he didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for what he’d done.

But the road was long. And he was still out here, somewhere in the middle of it.

i was so torn between the siren or maybe a ghost/vengeful spirit… ugh, im still not entirely convinced maybe ill even rewrite the whole thing.

anyway, tell me how you liked this, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated

[bloodmoonblitz]

@bylerween2023 Day 6: Supernatural creatures. have some more vampire au, this time on a nice date

[thepenultimateword]

Trick or Treat! 🦇🎃👻

I started writing this before October ended, but I didn't finish in time, so have a late treat!

Grounds for Murder

The officer observed the large smear of yellow paint on the coffee shop window. From up close, it looked like nothing more than a few random arced lines, but when Faelan approached the shop from across the street this morning, it looked a lot like an eye, the way the glass had glared in the dawning light almost like it was blinking. It had sent the fur on Faelan's haunches up on end. And as he hastily dug into his bag for the door keys, he had the eerie feeling of being watched.

The call to the police had been immediate, but now that he stood back on the street an hour later, the city a little more awake, and an officer at his side the graffiti didn't seem nearly so ominous. But maybe that had more to do with the nonchalant way the officer observed it, one hand on his hip, the other holding some ridiculous chain brand of coffee to his lips, his snake half circled into relaxed coils.

The officer swallowed his gulp of coffee loudly. "So if I have this right, you left at about 10:00pm last night and the window was clear. Then when you returned around 5:30am this morning this--" He waved vaguely at the vandalism. "--was here?"

"Y-y-yes."

"And none of the neighboring shops saw anything?"

Faelan frowned. "I d-didn't check. Isn't that the police's job?"

"Well, most people don't like an officer on their doorstep, especially not for something as minor as this."

Faelan frowned even deeper. Sure it wasn't a murder or anything big, but this was still a crime.

"You'll probably have more luck with your neighbors than us," the officer continued, and then as if to stop any protest directly added, "Any security footage?"

Faelan didn't want to let the topic change slide, but seeing as he wasn't the professional in this process, he bit down on his complaint. "Y-yes. In the back and out front. B-but it only catches snapshots every ten minutes. I-I already checked the feed. The paint appeared around 3:00am, but it didn't catch whoever did it."

The officer hummed vaguely, looking the markings up and down for a solid minute before saying, "Well, unfortunately, since no harm was actually done, there's nothing I can do."

Faelan's mouth dropped open. "Y-y-you're not going to investigate?"

"With so little to go on it would only be a waste of time. All of our officers are dedicated to serious cases right now, and with so little to go on, I doubt we can do much at the moment. Set up more cameras, and if it happens again, we'll see what we can do."

Faelan's tail flicked aggravatedly. "But this is the only shop they touched! It feels targeted! D-d-d-doesn't that seem concerning? "

The officer raised his brows. "There's no words. No recognizable symbols. Nothing that constitutes a real threat. You’re three blocks from the university; If anything its some dumb kids trying to be funny."

"It's n-n-n-not f-funny." Faelan barely grabbed control of his stutter. It always got worse when he was emotional, which was just inconvenient. If ever he needed a clear voice it was when he was chewing someone out.

The officer only stared at him, his expression more like someone inconvenienced than patient. “Talk to your neighbors. Set up more cameras. Don’t let it ruin your day.”

With that, the officer slithered smoothly back to the police car on the curb.

“B-B-B-But—”

Too late.

Faelan cursed under his breath before storming back inside, the overhead bell tinkling violently with the force he put on the door. His hooves clacked loudly as he shoved into the kitchen, tore open, the refrigerator, seized a mass of dough from yesterday, and threw it on the work table. He gnawed bidingly on his bottom lip while he washed his hands, barely holding himself back from drawing blood before slamming both fists onto the dough with a loud poff!

The dough was cold but he worked into it with all the violent anger he’d wanted to throw at officer or the perpetrator, or anyone else who wanted to try pissing him off today, and soon it was warm and malleable in his hands.

The bell tinkled from the front and Kaiyo’s familiar light step sounded on the tile, moments later the kitchen door creaked.

“Hey, what’s with the— Oh, you’re getting a late start.”

Faelan’s head shot up and Kaiyo's took an instinctive step back, ears flattening against his head.

"S-s-some stupid k-kid vandalized the store, and I wasted h-h-half the morning talking to the useless police who decided they’re not going to do a single thing, w-which they could have told me over the phone for all the help that officer p-provided me by coming down!” He ground the heels of his hand harder into the dough as he raised his voice into a mock conversation. “‘H-Hey, someone vandalized by shop, can you c-come check it out?’ ‘Oh, we a-a-actually don’t give a crap about your shop, so no, we aren’t going to do anything’ ‘Oh, no problem. Th-thanks for being incredibly useless.’ ‘You’re welcome, we love doing nothing.’ See? Easy!”

He punched the dough right in its soft center.

Kaiyo reached across the table and grabbed Faelan’s wrists. “Ok, you’re definitely going to overwork that, so let’s just step back a moment.”

Without letting go, he walked around the counter and pulled Faelan to a stool on the edge of the room, forcing him to sit.

“So, let's calm down a bit. You're saying kids painted that thing on the window?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. That’s what the officer theorized. I don’t actually know who did it, security cameras didn’t catch it.”

“I told you we should get some that actually film.”

“Nothing ever happens on this street; how was I supposed to know we’d be the only shop ever to get vandalized?”

Kaiyo flicked one ear, but he didn’t argue the point further. He probably didn’t want Faelan to explode.

“Well. If the police aren’t worried, let’s leave it for now.” He pulled Faelan up by the arms and began pushing him to front of the shop. “Here, why don’t I finish up the dough, and you do customer service until something is baked.”

“I hate talking to the customers,” Faelan grumbled.

“And they hate talking to you, but you’re in a mood, so you need to not be alone stewing.”

Faelan sighed heavily but clopped up to the register anyway. As annoying as it was, Kaiyo was right. He really could not be trusted with his own thoughts right now or he’d probably start trashing things, or worse, make a very, very angry phone.

The bell over the door tinkled, and he straightened up, forcing on his most accommodating smile. “W-welcome in, how can I—”

An intense chill rushed down his spine quickly followed by a slam of anxiety to the gut so strong he felt dizzy. He had to steady himself on the counter, but the touch of his hands to the cool granite only made him hyper aware of the fact that every single hair on his body was stood on end.

What was happening?

Thump thump thump thump thump…

His heart beat rapidly, no pauses, and as he concentrated on his next inhale to sow it, he realized his breaths were following the same pace.

His eyes flicked rapidly up and down as the woman approached the counter. She didn’t look dangerous. Dark circles under the eyes and a long brown trench coat might be off putting in some places, but at a coffee shop they were fairly normal.

Still, Faelan’s legs tensed to run.

She cocked her head a little and ruffled a hand through her short shag haircut, yellow eyes glinting. “I had a question about your window, but since I’m here, why don’t you throw in a Turkish coffee.”

[babynonbinarywitch]

Supernatural Creatures AU - Arcane

Part 2

Since it’s practically everywhere, I’ve been having thoughts about this in the past couple days, specifically around Jayce (and Mel and Viktor)

I’m thinking specifically about dragon Jayce

With human mage Mel and siren seer Viktor

Important Lore Details

Dragons are one of the few actually immortal creatures, and as such age extremely slowly in their true forms

Dragons also grow as they age until they hit about 300

Jayce, being only 35 when main canon (Happy Progress Day onward) hits, is still teeny tiny in full dragon form

Ximena is close to 350, and so is full grown and massive

The blacksmith is also full grown and older than Ximena, around 500

At some point in the past, Noxus made a sport of hunting dragons as a way to prove ‘might’, one of their pillars of strength

Unfortunately, this has the consequence of hunting dragons in anywhere Noxus invades to near extinction

Most do flee to neighboring nations (one of the many reasons Noxus and Ionia go to war), but sometimes they’re caught unaware by hunters and have to flee immediately with no planning

This is what happens to Ximena and her husband/mate, with Ximena weaker than usual because she had just laid Jayce’s egg not even three days ago

She’s forced to flee with Jayce’s egg in her claws and flee northwards, further into the mountains to find a place to let Jayce’s egg grow and hatch, while her partner holds off the Noxian hunters and is killed

Jayce’s egg take roughly 50 years to hatch, between his mom having to find a warm enough spot and having to get a stockpile of food so that she can actually incubate Jayce long enough for him to hatch

But when he’s about 6, a severe blizzard forces them to move south again, severe enough that Ximena isn’t willing to risk Jayce’s wings to the cold and have them fly, but catches them off guard and this is when the mage steps in and saves them, transporting them not too far from Piltover, where they are able to start over again

Important Plot Points

Thinking that Piltover & Zaun are both mainly mixes of vampires and werewolves, with a few rarer exceptions

Jayce and his mother are refugees to Piltover

Jayce is obviously a little hatchling when they get to Piltover, no more than 6, so Ximena is incredibly protective of him

With them being immigrants to Piltover, I can see his common/English not being as good/extremely accented to the point it was hard to understand at first and he gets bullied enough for it that Ximena makes the decision to pull him out of school and teach him what she knows after only a couple of months because like hell is her hatchling going to go through taunting that he can barely understand

Also it happens to be safer for Jayce to be sequestered in the home/nest until he’s older and able to adequately defend himself

Even in a place like Piltover, there’s still plenty of opportunities for a young dragon hatchling to be stolen right from under his mother’s nose and sold off for parts/as a pet/etc.

But without a partner to watch him in the home/nest, Ximena is pretty much forced to take him along on any outings to keep him by her side

He doesn’t particularly mind, but he’s easily distracted by books and often asks his mama to get the book(s) that capture his attention, and this causes a separation from Ximena exactly once

It doesn’t happen again after he starts tearing up before he hears his mama yelling his name outside and he runs out to her, abandoning the book he had been reading

Ximena had noticed her hatchling was missing and turned back in the massive market and started yelling his name, eventually she was noticed by a certain Lady Kiramman in her youth, who helps calm her down enough to guide her back to the bookstore and Jayce bolts out and attaches himself to Ximena, shaking and tearing up

The young Lady Kiramman may or may not escort them home and Ximena thanks her for her help and they stay acquainted through letters, and Jayce may or may not receive ‘anonymous’ gifts of piles of books to add to his slowly growing hoard over the years

Over the years, Jayce learns everything he knows about blacksmithing by apprenticing to one of the only other dragons in Piltover who offers after they discover each other as dragons and he realizes just how young Jayce is by dragon standards

He still goes through university, and after the trial, he’s still on the edge of the building’s rubble, and Viktor still interrupts him and they still work on Hextech, and they still break into Heimerdinger’s lab

Difference is that when they’re flying it’s a little more familiar to Jayce than to Viktor, who still finds his way through it, almost as if it was water instead of air but still moving forward

He starts nursing two crushes that night

One on the most gorgeous man he thinks he’s ever seen, who has a brilliant mind to go along with amber eyes that almost look like a forge ember

And one on the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen, with eyes like jade glass with a spark in them, and golden implants that sparkles in the light of the Hextech

He doesn’t realize it until much later, but he does recognize that he admires both of them, however little he knows them so far

[moonlightvalleycomic]

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: AT LAST

previous/next

previous chapter

chapter 1

[ectonurites]

@bylerween2023 DAY 5 & DAY 6: CAME BACK WRONG/SUPERNATURAL CREATURES

this was one of the first things i’d started working on for bylerween and also probably took the longest LMAO but anyways: an iZombie au! based on the comic—not the TV show of the same name, if that wasn’t clear.

the key thing both the show and comic do share though is the idea that: zombie eats brains -> they get memories of the person whose brain they ate

i do wanna do some more stuff in this au/setting at a later date because i have ideas, but throwing this little… introduction to the situation together seemed like a fun thing to do for this event 💜

[talktomeinclexa]

Monsters Among Us

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic violence, Blood and Injuries, Death

Status: WIP (8/10)

Summary: South of France, May 1767. A large beast has been terrorizing the province of Gévaudan for nearly three years, preying on lone boys and girls tending their livestock. The press, idle since the end of the Seven Years’ War, loses itself in conjecture based on the witnesses’ descriptions. What is to blame? A pack of man-eating wolves, a lion, a hyena escaped from a zoo…? Exasperated by the creature’s growing streak of victims and refusal to die, Louis XV dispatches Lexa Woods to the area. After all, who better than a monster hunter to kill a beast that bullets fail to slow down?

***

Chapter 8: The Hunt

“Jordan’s gone,” Harper repeated when her declaration was met with bemused silence. “He must have woken up during the night because he wasn’t in his bed this morning. No one has seen him.”

Lexa didn’t need to catch Clarke’s eyes to know what she was thinking. Despite the beat’s apparent success, the threat remained in Gevaudan. If Jordan had been taken, it was only a matter of hours, days at best, before his mangled body was found.

Harper looked imploringly at Clarke, leading Lexa to wonder how much she knew about the supposed ordinary healer. More than either of them had realized, it seemed, because Clarke’s eyes, too, bulged out in surprise when Harper retrieved a small, brown shirt from one of her pockets.

“It’s Jordan’s. I thought it might help you find him,” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Harper, I…” Clarke stuttered, too stunned to deny the unspoken assumption.

“I don’t care, Clarke.” Harper shook her head. “Please, find my boy. It’s all that matters.”

The silence that followed could have lasted a day, although realistically it wasn’t more than a few seconds. Clarke stared at Harper, hesitant to confirm her nature. Aden glanced worryingly at all of them and made himself smaller. Niylah had to have told him to keep his abilities a secret from humans, and he knew too well the danger supernatural creatures faced when found out. Lexa watched the scene, waiting for Clarke to make a decision.

That didn’t take too long. Despite the danger, Clarke would never refuse to help a friend, nor could she let an innocent child die.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

While Harper closed her eyes and sagged with relief, Clarke quietly glanced at Lexa, not wanting to reveal a secret that wasn’t hers. They knew each other enough by then not to need words, and Lexa nodded at her silent request. “I’ll help.”

Keep reading on Ao3

[fan-a-tink]

A little late but here it is, the third round of the creatures gif tournament! There are only eight gifs left, only four choices to make, so make them count! As always, like and share for a better sample size. The other choices are in the reblogs :)

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

Supernatural, Season 6: Summarized.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Current thoughts: A person moving to a new town, but it’s like. an incredibly supernatural town that’s full of a range of good to evil people/entities

And the new person is being targeted by a somewhat fucked up entity that keeps trying to advertise supernatural objects to them (nothing extremely fucked up, I’m thinking a bit creepier than the Horrorland gift shop)

But for whatever reason, this entity has no fucking idea what this new person is into, like for some reason they’ve decided this is someone who cares a lot about their looks, and keeps trying to advertise skin care products (with obviously an ironic side effect), but this person doesn’t actually care, they keep walking by all ads without a second glance

And eventually the entity (which I don’t actually have an idea of what they look like, I just imagine they control all tvs in town) gets fed up, and starts explicitly talking to the person through a tv (or stack of tvs in a display window) and is like “What Will It Take, What Product Will You Buy??? Yes, You. In The Yellow Coat. Buy Something Now.”

And the person, who’s been suspecting something is up with this town but hasn’t gotten any proof yet, is like :0!!!