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whumptopia · 4 years

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Officer Jelko Erban

oc werewolf ladywhump commissioned by @silentlygo

content warnings: female whump, gun violence, blood

—

Jelko Erban was accustomed to getting into fights—it was part of her job description, after all. Unofficially, of course. She was an officer of the law and therefore expected to conduct herself as responsibly as possible, but everyone knew her lycanthropy meant she was regularly assigned the more… dangerous assignments. Conflict came with the territory. Supernatural cases ended in violence more often than not, unfortunately, and she was more durable than her fellow officers, so she was frequently placed on the front lines. Normally, her status as the resident tank wasn’t a problem. She charged into the fray, tackling opponents to the ground and even taking bullets to spare her co-workers from suffering fatal wounds. She was stronger than non-lycans, and she healed faster too, so better her than them, she reasoned. She didn’t resent the other cops, the higher-ups, or the full-timers for the sacrifices she was asked to make. As a liaison officer, she was used to being called in for the tough jobs, so she didn’t really mind. Her work with the police made her kind appear less-threatening and more cooperative to non-lycans, who were typically wary of werewolves in general. Besides, she liked helping people. She wouldn’t have gotten involved in the whole arrangement in the first place if she didn’t want to make the world a safer place.

All-in-all, Jelko had a pretty good deal. Steady work, good pay, and only the expected amount of uneasiness from the other cops. She couldn’t complain.

With her skills, advanced abilities, and years of training under her belt, she rarely ran into real problems on the job, but when messes happened… well, things got ugly. She was rather tough, so she only got into trouble on the worst of days.

Today was one of those days.

Jelko was called in on another supernatural case, as per usual. Once again, she was partnered with Detective Jack Tyler, an upright man who she’d worked with on all of her recent cases. The department seemed to think they made a pretty good team—or Detective Tyler did something to warrant the annoyance of his superiors and thus kept on getting stuck with her as punishment. Even if that was the case, he never treated her with any disrespect. He wasn’t warm or friendly toward her, and she could tell he was uncomfortable with having a lycan partner, but he never verbally expressed his complaints, so she never asked for anything more than base-level professionalism from him. She had to deal with rude and even outright malicious partners in the past, so Detective Tyler was frankly an upgrade. She just hoped he wouldn’t request to be assigned a different officer in the future. She didn’t want to have to make the adjustment for the upteenth time and risk being stuck with a prejudiced asshole.

The case started out routine in the beginning. Violent gang activity with suspected supernatural beings involved. Jelko and Detective Tyler, after interrogating the suspect in custody, gathered enough evidence to be granted a warrant to search the property of the suspect’s alleged leader. The drive to the site was terse, Detective Tyler replacing the potential for conversation with smooth radio tunes, the music quiet but still loud enough to keep them both alone in their own heads.

Occasionally, she shot glances at her partner. The detective wasn’t an intimidating looking man by any means. With big ears, a triangular nose, and pale skin, he looked very British. His brows were low, just barely above his dark eyes, giving him a perpetually serious, worried countenance. His mop of thin, brown hair sat atop his head, straight and cut short. He usually wore a black leather jacket. Overall, he looked more professional than anything. Despite his lack of excessive musculature, he seemed relaxed in her presence, alone with her in his cruiser. More at ease than she was used to. Awkward, sure, but not concerned for his safety. When he looked at her out of the corner of his eye while stopped at a red light, she shot him a smile. He nodded out of obligation. Yes, their partnership was significantly more pleasant than what she was used to.

They arrived at the factory by the docks in a shadier part of town, the sun already starting to set. The plan was to search the place and question anyone they came across.

What they didn’t expect was to come across the leader of the group while he was conducting criminal business, but, as was their luck, they did. They knocked on the door, barged in when no one answered, and hurried down the dark hall until they stumbled into some sort of meeting. All of the men and women in the bright lit warehouse room looked so shocked, it was almost comical. The thugs got over their surprise quickly, however, and immediately pulled out their weapons, their grips tight on an assortment of blades and handguns. Jelko recognized several of the faces in the room—previous arrests, ex-cons, and wanted felons. They weren’t likely to come quietly.

The fight that ensued was rough, to say the least.

Immediately, both Jelko and Detective Tyler took cover behind crates of what was likely contraband, diving for shelter just as the gang members started shooting. They were outnumbered for sure, and their adversaries seemed intent on firing first and asking questions later. Detective Tyler pulled out his weapon and shot her a look. When the room quieted down to only the sounds of heavy breathing and frantic re-loading, Jelko jumped out from behind the crate and into the fray.

She charged the person closest to her, catching him in the jaw before he could ready his pistol. With her increased speed and strength, she incapacitated him before the others could react to her presence, sweeping his leg and knocking him to the concrete floor. Without hesitation, she lunged for her next target, swiping the woman’s weapon out of her hands before she could try to use it on her. As she brought her hand down on her shoulder and struck a pressure point, Jelko quickly scanned the room. Only a dozen or so armed thugs, all of them hastily shaking off their stupefaction from the surprise attack. Detective Tyler was firing his gun, shooting warning shots that sent a couple of the gangsters retreating for cover. Behind all the others stood a large, burly man with an enraged expression on his bearded face. She spotted his tail bristling behind him. A lycan, their leader, just as their intel suggested. He was the only real challenge for Jelko here.

Only after she took out a third opponent did the bullets properly come flying in her direction. She now had to operate on the defensive—despite her quick healing, a gun wound would still slow her down, and she couldn’t risk one of them scoring a lucky headshot. Ducking and dodging, she made her way to the next felon, engaging him in hand-to-knife combat, effectively directing the bullets in another direction. Apparently, these goons were smart enough not to risk killing each other in their pursuit of her. The man snarled and slashed his knife at her, but she snatched his wrist and twisted it so painfully he had to drop the blade. Grunting, he swung his other fist at her, but his blow to her stomach did little to stop her. She spun him around and locked him in a choke-hold, using him as a human shield as she forced him into unconsciousness with the pressure against his neck, his hands clawing uselessly at her jacket arm.

After she dropped him, she felt bullets whiz past her head, her elongated ears twitching at the proximity. A loud whistle pierced the air, the noise subdued by the cacophony of gun-fire, but Jelko could still hear with her advanced hearing. The gang leader had apparently concluded that she was too powerful a threat and would likely take out all of his goons if he didn’t stop her himself. He lowered his hand from his mouth, and the remainder of the thugs who were out in the open speedily joined the others in their hiding spots. Detective Tyler was still exchanging fire with the sheltered shooters, but none of the bullets came close to her now as the lycan leader of the gang approached her. He was a big man, but she had fought and beaten bigger lycans before. She readied herself in a fighting stance, briefly considering pulling out her gun but deciding against it. She wouldn’t kill him unless she had to. She was better than that.

With a shout of rage, he charged toward her, and she just barely ducked out of the way. The fight happened as if in slow motion, they were both moving so fast. Claws out, fangs bared. The man was clearly not holding back, which left her at a disadvantage. He wasn’t too proud to yank on her tail or tug her tied-back brown hair, which left her more frustrated and insulted than anything. Hissing, growling, and cursing between heavy pants, they hashed it out. Fighting lycans was completely different from fighting humans. For Jelko, it was a whole new level of challenge. Each blow hurt, dealing real damage, knocking the breath out of her and leaving her winded. It took all of her focus and concentration to maintain the upper hand, but, after a particularly well-aimed punch to the face sent her stumbling backward several steps, her odds ceased to look promising. He kicked her in the chest, knocking her to the floor, which was when she realized she was well and truly fucked. He climbed on top of her, and she slashed at his face. He howled with pain, clamping a palm over the red gashes.

“Bitch,” he hissed. Her ferocious expression matched his.

“Fuck off,” she barked, trying to scratch him again.

The next couple minutes passed in a blur. A series of punches and relentless blows. A cut across her forehead spilled blood into her eyes. She tried her best to shove him off, but his attacks sapped her strength and focus. She knew she was getting in some good hits because of his furious swearing, but, other than that, she was losing bad. He clamped his hand around her throat, warding off her swats with his other arm, and even though her eyes were closed against the rain of her own blood, spots gathered across her line of sight.

She heard Detective Tyler yell something she couldn’t decipher, and then she was out.

—

When Jelko next awoke, it felt as if only a moment had passed. Her body, heavy and bruised, ached more than she was used to, and when she cracked open her eyes, her lashes were sticky with blood. She groaned, and a face appeared in her hazy vision. Detective Tyler. He was crouched down in front of her, his expression one of pinched concern.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

“You alright?” she asked him. She could handle getting banged up, but she didn't know if he could. She cleared her throat. Her neck was sore, purple bruises more than likely discoloring the tan skin of her neck. The fight came back to her as she cataloged her wounds, but she couldn't recall the end. “What happened?”

“I shot ‘em,” Detective Tyler said, his voice tinged with a light British accent. He was rummaging through the white case with a red cross that they kept stashed in all of the patrol cars. “That bastard was gonna kill you, so I shot him in the head. The rest scattered soon after that. I dragged you outta there, and we were driving away when someone shot out my tires.”

Jelko listened attentively. He looked rattled. Neither of them had expected this when they left the precinct earlier that evening.

“They’re following us—or they were, at least. I carried you outta there to the closest safe house. I think this operation is bigger than anyone thought.”

Jelko looked around the room. A bit dusty, clearly unused, with curtained windows and a locked door. Definitely a safe house. She was lying down on a lumpy couch, her head cushioned by his leather jacket, folded into a make-shift pillow.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to meet his eyes. He could’ve left her behind and few people would’ve blamed him, her being a lycan and all. He went through so much trouble to save her.

He waved her off. “Just doing my job, Erban. My arms are right sore from dragging you around, though.”

She chuckled a little at his weak joke, hoping to ease the tension between them. He still wouldn’t look at her directly.

He produced a water bottle and a handful of drugstore brand painkillers. “Here, you’ll want this.”

She nodded and accepted the offer, sitting up with his help. She swallowed all the pills without hesitation, much to Detective Tyler’s apparent surprise.

“How much can you take? I mean, do you need more in order for it to kick in?”

She smiled, appreciative of his careful questions about her lycan physiology. “Maybe a couple more.”

He handed her the bottle, and she finished the pills with the remainder of her water. The cool liquid soothed her throat, and she sighed. Detective Tyler watched her before standing up and heading toward the sink, a towel in his hand.

“I stitched up your head. A sloppy job, but it should be fine until we can get out of here and to a hospital. I called for backup. They should be here soon.”

Jelko nodded along to this new information, reaching up and delicately thumbing her forehead. Sure enough, she could feel the lines of stitches. She winced. She normally would heal quickly enough not to need stitches, but the claws of another lycan left longer-lasting wounds.

He returned to her side with a damp towel. Without asking, he started to wash away the blood splattered across her face and neck. She arched an eyebrow at this, surprised by how readily he offered her aid and came into close proximity, but she didn’t question him. She felt weak and tired, something she wasn’t used to, so his help was welcome.

“I’m sorry for not intervening sooner,” he said quietly. “It seemed like you had a handle on it for a while. You usually do. I know we haven’t worked together long, but… you have a reputation, you know, and I’ve seen what you can do. I figured you would be alright if I focused on picking off the little guys one by one, and I only realized you needed help when it was too late…”

Detective Tyler trailed off, the white towel in his hand pink with her blood. He shrugged. “I guess I thought you could take out another werewolf on your own. Guess I was wrong.”

Jelko listened quietly. This was the most they had spoken throughout their partnership, and it was a heartfelt apology. She almost couldn’t believe her ears.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. She knew he took his job seriously and held himself accountable, but this was pushing it. “You handled yourself exceptionally well. You brought me here, didn’t you? I’m the one who lost the fight.”

The Detective finally met her eyes. He looked skeptical. “That was one big fucker, Officer Erban. I don’t blame you.”

“And I don’t blame you,” she said earnestly, and he nodded slowly, seemingly taking her words to heart. Rising to his feet, he made his way back to the sink.

“Your face is clean. I’ll grab you an ice pack, I’m sure there’s one around here somewhere.”

Jelko laid back down, relaxing into the relative comfort of the soft surface beneath her. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She normally liked to be alone when she was injured, safe at home in her apartment, licking her wounds. Hurt lycans tended to suffer mood swings and other unpleasant side effects. She wouldn’t want Detective Tyler to witness her in such a state, especially since it seemed he was finally starting to like her.

The floorboards creaked as Detective Tyler returned by her side. She cracked open her eyes, and he handed her a bag of ice. She placed them on her ribs. Her bones throbbed, muscles aching. She could tell the painkillers were starting to kick in, but she would need something stronger from the hospital. Detective Tyler gnawed on his bottom lip. If only his colleagues knew he was such a mother hen. The teasing would never end.

“I’ll be alright,” she assured him with a half-hearted grin. “I heal fast. The process will just be a bit slower this time, but still plenty quick.”

He nodded, seemingly absorbing the information. “Okay. I’d turn out the light and let you rest, but I don’t know if you have a concussion.”

“Good thinking,” she praised, even though all she wanted was some sleep. He shot her a knowing look, apparently aware of her thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I called a half-hour ago. They said they’re sending a squad car to come bring us to St. Mary’s. You can rest once we get there.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed, playing up her exhaustion. His eyes crinkled, almost as if he wanted to laugh. He sat down on an unoccupied space of the couch by her feet, sinking into the pillows with a deep exhale. He looked tired himself.

“Long night?” she asked, and he smiled wryly.

“You don’t know half of it.”

“How ‘bout you share the details of your selfless rescue?” she suggested, and he appeared unamused. “To keep me awake.”

He groaned, looking as if he were about to roll his eyes. He was silent for a long moment, but then he began: “Well, it all started when I had to drive halfway across the city to search some rundown warehouse. Little did I know, a bunch of good-for-nothings were there waiting for me...”

Jelko smiled as he retold their night, focusing primarily on the parts where she was unconscious, as they waited for help to arrive. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she was part of a team.

#my writing #whump #lady whump #oc whump #beating #bruises #blood #choking #injury #hurt #unconscious #pain #comfort #tw guns #not a prompt #commission

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rhosyn-du · 4 years

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Title: A Wonderful Institution Artist: @bidnezz Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings Word Count: ~53k Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, discrimination against Downworlders, reference to rape, Clave-typical homophobia, implied character death, minor character death Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.

Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do with that.

This fic was created for the @malecdiscordserver Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter Nine

“Izzy, I need your help.”

Izzy’s head snapped up from her microscope to look at her brother in concern. “One second,” she said, scribbling something on the notepad next to her. “I’m looking at those samples Luke sent us.”

“Yeah, no hurry,” Alec said, trying hard to calm his restlessness. It was huge progress that the werewolves were willing to share some of the information they’d gathered on the murdered mundanes, both in the investigation and in terms of relations between the Clave and the Downworld. His minor personal crisis could wait.

Izzy gave him a sidelong glance that made Alec realize he was doing a terrible job of not fidgeting.

“I’ll wait outside,” he offered.

“I only need five minutes,” Izzy promised, “and then I’m all yours. I just want to make sure I’ve got these calculations right before I draw any conclusions.”

In reality, it only took Izzy three minutes to finish, for which Alec was extremely grateful.

“What did you find?” he asked when she stepped out of the lab.

“There’s a compound in all of the blood samples,” she told him. “I think it might be why they were taken. And now that we know from Luke that they were all mundanes with the Sight and that it was probably the Circle buying blood from the demons, that might help us narrow down what’s going on.”

“It’s somewhere to start, anyway,” Alec agreed.

“So,” Izzy said, “what’s the latest emergency?”

“It’s not an emergency.” Alec shrugged, going for nonchalance. Izzy’s raised eyebrows told him he hadn’t quite managed it.

“Spill, big brother.”

“I have a date tonight,” Alec said quickly. “With Magnus. And I don’t really know— Look, can you just tell me if the shirt I picked to wear is okay?”

Izzy’s grin, which had been growing as he talked, turned into full-throated, delighted laughter when he finished.

“You know what, never mind,” Alec said, turning to walk away.

“No!” Izzy said, grabbing his arm. “I won’t laugh anymore, I promise. I’m just happy for you, Alec. Come on, show me your shirt.”

They’d almost made it to Alec’s room when they were interrupted by an urgent, “Sir!”

Alec turned, ready to face whatever new disaster had cropped up. He only hoped Clary hadn’t tried to sneak out of the Institute again.

“What is it?”

“An envoy from the Clave just arrived,” Underhill told him. “I thought you’d want to be notified immediately.”

Alec nodded. “Thank you.” Not that the Clave had told him they were sending any envoy. This was charmingly ominous.

He turned to Izzy, who simply patted his arm. “Go. I’ll find you something decent to wear tonight.”

“Something I’d actually wear, Iz,” Alec warned. At her nod, he added, “Thank you.”

The woman he found inspecting the ops center was younger than he expected, with blonde hair pulled back in a tidy braided updo and sharp blue eyes.

“Lydia Branwell,” she introduced herself as soon as Alec stepped into the room. “The Clave sent me to oversee a smooth transition of power for the newly appointed Head of the Institute.”

“Alec Lightwood,” he said with a tight smile. “Head of the New York Institute and Acting Head for nearly four years before that. I’m sure there won’t be any problems related to transitions of power.”

Lydia nodded. “Even so, with your recent wedding and the upcoming signing of the Accords, not to mention the return of the Circle, the Clave thinks it would be best if you had someone around to make sure things go smoothly.”

“So, you’re a baby-sitter,” Alec said bluntly.

“Some people probably think so,” she said, just as blunt. “It can’t have escaped your notice that there are those in Idris who are concerned about the prospect of someone married to a Downworlder running an Institute.”

“No, but I assumed that if there were any serious objections, the Council wouldn’t have given the Institute to me in the first place.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the compromise,” Lydia told him. “From what little I’ve seen so far, you run a tight ship. Don’t screw things up, and I can be out of your hair in a month or two.”

“And what do you think about a Shadowhunter who’s married to a Downworlder running an Institute?” Alec asked.

Lydia shrugged. “I think there’s nothing wrong with a political marriage, and it would be silly to penalize someone for making a pragmatic decision.” She looked at him. “The only problem would be if your loyalty to the Clave were compromised. As long as it’s not, you have nothing to worry about.”

The words were simple, but they didn’t exactly give Alec hope. He was loyal to the Clave, but there were so many different things someone could use as an excuse to decide he wasn’t. This was not a complication he needed.

Alec put on his best professionally polite smile. “Why don’t you let me show you around?”

It took exactly a minute and a half for Magnus to realize that The Hunter’s Moon was maybe not the best place to take Alexander on their first date. It wasn’t that the atmosphere was wrong or that there was anything wrong with their drinks (although IPAs apparently weren’t Alec’s drink, either, but Magnus was determined to figure it out). It was just the way people kept watching them. Not overtly, of course. Just little sidelong glances that made it feel like they were on display.

“Perhaps a mundane pub would have been a better choice,” Magnus said. “We can always try somewhere else, if you’d rather?”

“No,” Alec said, shaking his head. “This is— It’s fine. It makes sense for people to be curious. We did just have a very public, very politically important wedding. It’s natural for people to be curious. They probably just want to make sure we aren’t on the verge of killing each other and breaking the Accords.” He took a deep swig of his beer, and Magnus noticed that his grimace was at least slightly less intense this time. “Besides, I can’t imagine being more comfortable surrounded by mundanes.”

“There is something to be said for not having to hide,” Magnus agreed. He nodded toward the pool table in the corner. “Do you fancy a game?”

Alec glanced over, a tiny smile appearing on his face. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

Two games in, Alec finally seemed to lose the tension that he’d been holding in his shoulders since he’d shown up at the loft earlier in the evening. They were well matched in both skill at the game and competitiveness, and they’d each managed to win a game.

“I think I’m going to grab another refill before I beat you again,” Magnus said, brandishing his empty glass.

“You mean before I beat you again,” Alec corrected with a grin.

“I said what I said.”

“Come on,” Alec said. “I might as well get another drink, myself.”

Maia, the werewolf bartender, greeted them with a smile. Magnus only knew her in passing, but she was one of the few people here tonight who hadn’t treated them any differently than any other patrons, and that went a long way in his book.

“What can I get for you boys?”

“A Manhattan for me,” Magnus said. He glanced at Alec, who looked no less lost than he had when they’d ordered their first round.

“Something that isn’t beer or too sweet?” Alec said after a moment of consideration.

“Gin martini,” Magnus suggested. “Extra dirty,” he added, with a grin for Alec, who responded with a tolerant head shake for his innuendo.

“Coming right up,” Maia promised, grabbing a shaker.

“I suppose we both have a healthy dose of the competitive spirit,” Magnus observed.

“I grew up with Jace,” Alec said. “I didn’t have much choice. And I’m sure it didn’t help that Izzy encouraged us both.”

Magnus was dimly aware of a phone ringing as he picked up their drinks. It wasn’t his phone or Alec’s, so he didn’t pay it much attention. He watched with interest as Alec sipped his drink, and for the first time, didn’t wince.

“This is nice,” Alec said, clearly surprised. “Salty and...kind of green?”

Magnus beamed, happy to have finally found a drink Alec liked. “That’s the juniper in the gin.”

“Wait, slow down.” Magnus turned around at Maia’s panicked voice to find her talking furiously on her phone. “Shit. Where are you? East side or west side? No, I’ll be right there, don’t panic.”

She turned to the other bartender on duty, shouting that there was a pack emergency and she’d be right back.

“No, don’t hang up,” Maia insisted into the phone. “I can— I’ll get someone else to call. You keep talking to me so I know you’re safe.”

She turned and grabbed the arm of the nearest person, who happened to be Magnus. “I need you to call Luke,” she said urgently. “Gretel is being hunted by a pack of demons over by Foley Square. I’m going after her, but I need backup.”

“Of course,” Magnus said, pulling out his phone.

“I’ll call Luke,” Alec said without missing a beat. “Magnus, can you make a portal to Foley Square?” At his nod, Alec turned back to Maia. “We’re not your pack, but we can be your backup until they get there.”

Maia gave him a quick, assessing once over, then nodded. “Thanks, Shadowhunter,” she said, before turning back to her phone.

Magnus wasn’t entirely sure where Gretel was, and he wasn’t as familiar with this part of the city as he was with other parts of New York, so they had to run a few blocks from the portal before they caught up with Gretel.

The pale-furred werewolf was backed up to a brick wall, in full wolf form, facing off with half a dozen Ravener demons. She had several lacerations on her forequarters and was stumbling in a way that suggested she was already suffering severe effects of demon venom.

What surprised Magnus, though, was the woman who stood behind the demons, holding her own portal open.

It wasn’t that Magnus was surprised that Iris Rouse would summon a pack of demons, or even that she’d use them for nefarious purposes. She’d always skirted the edges of the law, and her attempts to breed new warlocks showed that she didn’t exactly care about the welfare of others or the Accords.

No, what was surprising was the vacant look in her eyes and the black veins running across her face and up her arms.

Before Magnus had time to do much more than register Iris’s identity and appearance, Maia had shifted to her wolf form and launched herself at the redheaded warlock.

“Try to leave her alive so we can question her,” Alec called as he pulled a short seraph blade from his thigh holster and expertly dispatched the nearest Ravener demon.

Between Maia and Magnus, it took very little time to subdue Iris. She was less powerful than Magnus to begin with, and she was also clearly not at the top of her game. If the strange black veins weren’t enough of a hint, her magic was muted and more erratic than it should be.

As soon as they had Iris contained, Maia rushed off to help Alec and Gretel with the remaining demons. Iris stared up at Magnus from where he had her pinned magically to the ground.

“Madzie,” she gasped. “Is Madzie safe?”

It wasn’t what Magnus expected, and he found himself nodding before he could even consider whether it was a good idea to answer.

“She’s safe. Far away from you,” he added.

Iris scowled at him, body shaking like someone in the throes of drug withdrawal. “You can’t keep her from me. But for now, she’s safe, and that’s all that matters.”

“Safe from what?” Magnus wondered. “Iris, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t you know yet?” Iris laughed bitterly through her spasms. “Valentine. He’s back, and he’s experimenting on Downworlders, on warlocks, making us—” She cut off into a pained scream, convulsing.

Reaching out with his magic, Magnus did his best to calm her, but without knowing what was causing the convulsions, he was at a loss. He was a decent healer when he knew what he was dealing with, but something like this, that he’d never seen before, that he knew nothing about other than “Valentine’s experiments,” was beyond him.

A hand landed on Magnus’s shoulder, and he looked over to find Alexander, helping Maia support an unconscious Gretel.

“I can’t help both of them,” Magnus said. “Not and keep Iris contained if she starts to recover.”

“We can take them to the Institute,” Alec said. “You can treat Iris in one of the cells, and we’ve got materials for treating demon venom in the infirmary.”

“I don’t think so,” Maia said. “I appreciate the help, but I’m not letting you take one of my pack back to your Institute.”

“Nothing will happen to her, I promise.” Alec said.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Maia said. “You might be all right, Lightwood, but I don’t exactly trust the rest of your kind. Take the warlock. She tried to hurt one of ours, so you can do what you want to her as long as you share whatever information you get out of her. The rest of my pack will be here soon, and we can take care of Gretel.”

Alec nodded with obvious reluctance.

“Luke has my number if you need more help with her injuries than you can give,” Magnus said.

Maia nodded her thanks, then motioned for them to go.

Healing Iris proved to be an involved process that required several potions the Institute kept regularly stocked and calling in Cat for help, but they eventually left her peacefully unconscious instead of convulsing in a well-guarded cell. A blonde Shadowhunter Alec irritably introduced as Lydia promised to call as soon as Iris regained consciousness, so Magnus portalled himself and Alec back to the loft.

“So,” Magnus said as they entered the loft, “this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our first date.” It wasn’t the most disastrous first date he’d ever been on, or even the first that involved a demon-related disaster, but it wasn’t exactly a success, either.

“Me either,” Alec agreed, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch. “But it was fun until, you know, demons. Maybe next time we should just stay in?”

Even tired as he was from the fight and healing Iris, Magnus couldn’t help the smile that split his face. Alexander wanted there to be a next time.

“Absolutely not,” he said. Alec looked at him surprised, and Magnus hurried to explain. “Alexander, I’m a warlock. I can portal us literally anywhere in the world. Maybe New York wasn’t the best choice under the circumstances, but you have to at least give me a chance to sweep you off your feet.”

Alec smiled one of those beautiful, genuine smiles that Magnus couldn’t get enough of. “I think you've got that covered regardless of where we are.”

“But no demons next time,” Magnus said, smiling back.

“No demons,” Alec agreed before leaning in to brush his lips against Magnus’s.

And maybe, Magnus figured, the date wasn’t a total disaster.

Alec couldn’t tell if there was actually something wrong that his subconscious was picking up on, or if he just wasn’t used to not being in crisis mode anymore. It had been almost two weeks since he’d gotten married, recovered the Mortal Cup, and rescued/captured Iris Rouse, and six days since the signing of the updated Accords. He and Magnus—and eventually Lydia, who it turned out was surprisingly easy to work with—had spent several days questioning Iris, gathering all of the information she had to give them about those who had captured her.

Iris had confirmed that she’d been taken by the Circle, and that Valentine was alive, which wasn’t news to Alec or Magnus, but now it was official knowledge, which was a huge weight off of Alec’s back. Iris hadn’t exactly been willing to talk to Shadowhunters, but her hatred for the Circle and the horrors they’d put her through proved greater than her hatred for those who had her imprisoned now. She’d told them that Valentine was experimenting on Downworlders, that he’d managed to create some kind of serum that allowed him to control warlocks—those that it didn’t kill, anyway—and he was using them to summon the packs of demons that were capturing other Downworlders. It sounded almost like he was building an army of mind-controlled Downworlders.

Much to both Magnus’s and Clary’s disappointment, Iris hadn’t seen Dot.

They’d sent Iris to Idris to stand trial along with a note from Alec that she’d been very helpful in providing information on Valentine and the Circle. Not that he expected it would have much of an impact on her sentence given all she’d done. If the Clave let her live, he would be very surprised.

What hadn’t gone back to Idris was the Mortal Cup, and maybe that was why Alec was so on edge. Consul Penhallow knew they’d recovered it, had known since the night it happened, but insisted that it was safer in a vault at the New York Institute that only she and Alec had access to than it would be in Alicante right now. Which, honestly, did not give Alec a lot of confidence in what the Council was doing or in the Clave’s ability to take on Valentine in any kind of meaningful way. Consul Penhallow promised to send word as soon as she deemed it safe to transport the Cup, but so far, she hadn’t sent it.

Magnus had gotten word of three more missing warlocks, but none of those disappearances had yielded any more information than they already had.

Then there was Clary Fairchild. Despite knowing that they were searching for Jocelyn, despite being involved in the process herself, she’d made repeated attempts to sneak out of the Institute to go looking on her own. She’d been working with Magnus to gather intel using the portal shard, which along with the information they’d gathered from Iris had given them a pretty good idea of what the inside of Valentine’s hideout looked like. Iris was able to give them a rough location and said she suspected the hideout was on the water, but that still gave them many square miles to search. Ragnor was working on getting a more precise location but tracking the potion he’d made for Jocelyn was apparently a long and involved process.

It was the waiting that was making him twitchy, Alec decided. Waiting and not being able to do anything. He was used to taking action, and there hadn’t been any actions for him to take since they’d sent Iris to Idris.

“Do you really dislike musicals this much, or are you thinking about work again?”

Alec let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and forced himself to relax into the couch and against Magnus’s side. “Sorry,” he said, attempting to turn his attention back to the dancers on the screen. “I guess I’m a little distracted.”

It was their fifth date. Alec was absolutely counting. Magnus had taken him to Tokyo and London. Alec had taken Magnus to his favorite burger joint in the East Village. They had miraculously entirely avoided demon attacks. And, yeah, it might be a little bit weird to be dating the guy he was married to, but it was the only thing in Alec’s life that wasn’t giving him a headache. Magnus was amazing and fun to be around and better at kissing than should probably be legal.

This was the first date they’d actually spent at the loft. During the course of their previous dates, Magnus had discovered what he insisted was Alec’s “tragic lack of cinematic literacy” and vowed to fix it. Which is how they’d ended up snuggled up on the couch eating pizza (Alec’s choice) and watching a film Alec was pretty sure was about a writer who's obsessed with a cabaret performer who can sing remarkably well for someone with tuberculosis (Magnus’s choice), but he honestly hadn’t been paying close enough attention to be certain.

It wasn’t at all how Alec had pictured this date going. He’d thought, or maybe just hoped, that Magnus’s suggestion they stay at the loft meant Magnus was just as ready as he was to take their physical relationship further. He’d been thinking about it half the day, and now that he was actually here, with Magnus, alone in their loft with a whole night to themselves, his mind was consumed with worries about work and everything that might go wrong.

Sometimes, Alec thought his mind was a real dick.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Magnus offered.

Alec shook his head. “I want to be able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry, Magnus, this isn’t fair to you.”

“Seems like it’s not fair to you, either,” Magnus said with a shrug. “You’re the one spending your night off worrying about work.”

“I guess.” Alec didn’t want to admit that this wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence for him. Before he’d met Magnus, most of his nights off were spent worrying about work, or his family, or the intersection of those two things.

Magnus sighed and paused the movie. “If the film isn’t enough to distract you, then we’ll have to find something else that can.”

It wasn’t, for a wonder, said with even the slightest hint of innuendo, but Alec arched his eyebrows anyway. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Magnus said, answering Alec’s teasing grin with one of his own, “I didn’t have anything specific in mind before, but when you ask like that, I think perhaps I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” Alec asked, leaning in and crowding Magnus against the arm of the couch. “What’s that?”

Magnus grinned, then held up the tiramisu he’d apparently summoned from the takeout bag they’d left in the kitchen. “Dessert.”

“I think dessert could definitely distract me,” Alec said, taking the container and plastic forks and deliberately placing them on the coffee table.

Magnus’s mouth was hot and eager against his own and sent all thoughts of Valentine and the Mortal Cup and Circle spies in Alicante flying out of his head. It amazed Alec, as it always did, how easy this was. Not the actual kissing—there was definitely a learning curve there, but he thought he was doing okay with it—but just being together, wanting each other, like it was the simplest, most natural thing in the world.

Alec let his hand slide beneath the hem of Magnus’s shirt, fingers tracing the ridge of abs under skin smooth as silk, and let his thoughts and senses fill with nothing but Magnus. The way Magnus’s mouth moved against his. The press of Magnus’s body. The tingle Magnus’s fingers left behind as they made their way down the side of his neck and along his collarbone.

Alec broke the kiss with a gasp, desperate for air, only to have his breath stolen in the next instant when Magnus’s mouth followed the same path his fingers had moments earlier.

“Magnus,” he gasped, arching into the touch. There was a thought forming there, something he’d wanted to do. Or to ask? If he could just catch it. “Magnus,” he said again, more firmly as if that could help corral his own thoughts.

“Hmm?” Magnus murmured, his mouth moving up the other side of Alec’s neck, tracing the shape of his deflect rune.

“We could—” The words were right on the tip of his tongue, the thought on the tip of his brain. “Could we—?” There. “Bedroom?”

Okay, so, not the most eloquent way he could have phrased it, but Alec thought he got the message across. He was actually pretty proud of himself for being able to form words at all.

At least, he was until Magnus pulled away.

“Alexander.” Magnus’s face was guarded in a way that made Alec’s guts churn. This was not at all the reaction he’d been hoping for. Or expecting.

“Do you not want to?” Alec guessed. He’d thought they were on the same page. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to indicate that Magnus wanted Alec just as much as Alec wanted him, but maybe he’d been reading the signs wrong.

“I do,” Magnus was quick to assure him. “It’s just, it’s rare that I’ve ever felt this way about someone, and—” He looked away. “And there are things I haven’t told you, things I probably should have told you a long time ago. Things I need to tell you before we take our relationship any further.”

“Magnus, you can tell me anything,” Alec said, ignoring the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to imagine what kind of secret would make Magnus this nervous. “Or choose not to tell me, but if it’s worrying you so badly, I’m willing to listen.”

Magnus grabbed the tiramisu from the table, holding it out both in offering and like a shield between them. Alec took it and popped open the plastic container, then offered Magnus a plastic fork. Magnus had tried to insist they eat with actual silverware, but Alec managed to convince him it wasn’t real takeout if you did it that way.

Magnus took the fork, then spent a ridiculously long time poking at the dessert, before saying, “You never asked me why I put my name forward to be a part of this marriage.” His eyes were still fixed firmly on his fork. “And I know I offered an explanation, but it wasn’t precisely accurate.”

Alec frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t put my name forward at all,” Magnus told him, finally meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t the person the Downworld leaders chose. My name wasn’t even on the list.”

“But,” Alec said, “then why did you say you were?”

“The Spiral Council wanted me to volunteer, but I refused. But then we were sitting there in that meeting and…you looked so sad,” Magnus said with a helpless shrug. “Like you did when I asked you over for drinks. And I thought— No, that’s not true either. I wasn’t thinking at all, not really. I just didn’t want you to be sad anymore, and I guess I figured I could work out the details later.”

It was Alec’s turn to stare at the tiramisu. He didn’t know what to think, how to feel. “Do you regret it?” he asked finally.

“No,” Magnus said without hesitation. “I keep expecting to, if I’m honest, but no. I thought I could talk you out of it at first, and by the time I realized I couldn’t...” He shrugged again. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you looking that sad again, or the thought of you marrying someone else.”

“Magnus…” Alec struggled to find the words for what he was feeling. It was a lot to take in.

But whatever words he might have come up with were interrupted by a sudden, frantic pounding on the front door. Magnus sprang to his feet, rushing toward the door, Alec close on his heels. Magnus looked concerned, but not alarmed, so Alec figured he didn’t need to run to the other room for his weapons, but he stayed close to Magnus just in case he needed backup.

Magnus flung open the door to reveal a frantic-looking Raphael.

“What happened?” Magnus demanded. “Are you all right?”

Raphael shook his head. “Ragnor is missing.”

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

Text

Batman and the Wolf in Shining Armor || Ariana & Sammy/Ace

TIMING: Tonight, middle of the night PARTIES: @inspirationdivine & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After looking for Ace/Sammy out in the woods for the past few nights, Ariana finally comes across him again. Wholesome times ensue. CONTENT: Sibling death mentions,

The past couple of nights, Ariana had made her way to their spot in the woods, hoping to catch Ace. It’d been a while since she left her last note and she knew it left him a bit worried. Turned out, it was with good reason though not even skipping late night runs through the wood had done her any good. She swallowed back the lump that felt like lead in her throat and slid down the tree to sit on the ground as she waited. If he didn’t show up tonight, she was going to have to check that tunnel out again and try to find where he was. She intended to help him and make sure his situation was safe, as she had that looming feeling present that it wasn’t, but things had just spiraled so out of control. She would follow through for him though. Ace was kind, sweet, and funny-- whatever he was going through that limited how much he could share with her wasn’t deserved. Too many good people seemed to be getting the shit end of the stick and she wasn’t going to let that happen to Ace, too. The crunching of leaves beneath shoes shook her from her thoughts as her head whipped around to see the source. A tired, but relieved smile spread across her face as she jumped up to greet Ace. She immediately enveloped him in a hug and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. Been trying to catch you the last few nights.”

Sammy hadn’t been wandering so much lately. It hadn’t been easy to get out with Lydia having one kind of guest or another. Never reveal your presence to a guest. Well, this one apparently didn’t even sleep. Fuck, he’d thought, but tonight, he’d made it out. Even though he’d seen the eye in the sky, the moon didn’t look too shabby. He’d curled his hands into his pockets, and run. No scratch left on his skin anymore, the rambling excuses about dried clay had barely satiated Lydia, but she hadn’t questioned it too closely. He wandered into the woods, his chest tight, desperate to see Ariana again after the notes she’d left him. But the young wolf caught him by surprised when she jumped up from the tree, and when she hugged him he swung his wiry arms right around hers, effortlessly picking up her up in a bear hug. “Yeah, god, I missed you Ari. You scared the hell out of me.”

Ariana clung to him longer than she normally would have, taking in his earthy scent that always vaguely reminded her of clay and burying her head into his chest. With everything else that happened, it was such a huge relief to see him here alive despite the fact she’d failed to check up on him sooner. As she pulled away, she weakly explained, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She meant as much, though she wasn’t even sure how to explain what happened. It was terrible and there wasn’t really a way of making it sound less terrible, not that she thought Ace needed her to filter anything, it was just a lot to put on someone who clearly had their own problems. Not that he could talk about them which only furthered the sour feeling in her stomach so she tried to shake that away, though a trace of a grimace was left on her face. “A lot happened, but I’m mostly safe now. Or at least, there’s not anyone actively hunting for me anymore. Are you okay though? How have you been?”

“Woah, hey,” Sammy said, holding her even tighter as she pressed her face into his chest. He helped her tight, ad when she pulled away, he hated the feeling of letting her go. This werewolf had stolen a piece of his heart a long time ago. “Don’t apologise for that, Ari. Never.” He insisted firmly, squinting in the dark to her. “No one’s hunting you anymore? Ari, that’s fantastic! Agh, same as ever. New eye in the sky, same old Ace. It’s been a pretty quiet old time for me. Mainly I’ve been looking forward to all those prom photos you promised me.”

Ariana let out a breath as she tried to keep herself from grimacing as he spoke. Ace meant well and really was just so sweet, there was literally no way he could have known that prom night had been the worst night of her life so far. If things hadn’t turned out so tragically wrong, she would have even found how eager he was to see photos from the evening endearing. Fuck. “Fantastic, right,” she started, voice not all that convincing as she pulled out her phone to show him some of the photos. She half wanted to just tell him what happened, but a bigger part of her just wanted to have a nice, light-hearted evening with the mysterious friend she’d made in the forest. She scrolled through a couple of the pictures, showing him as she went. Her purple hair had been done up in a bun and black headband that perfectly matched her long, black dress. She’d looked so… happy. Then she realized she went back too far when she came up on the ones of her and Celeste, quickly throwing the phone down and cringing as she heard the sound of her screen hitting the root of a tree. She hadn’t even realized her eyes were welling up as she shakily said, “Shit, I shouldn’t have--” Her gaze fell down to her unsteady hands, completely ignoring the fallen phone, and instantly felt bad for making him worry about her yet again.

It didn’t sound that fantastic when she said it like that. Sammy bit his doubt into his cheek, swinging himself around to peer over Ariana’s shoulder. “You’re right, that dress is amazing,” he commented idly, from what they’d talked about last time. But the more they flicked through a myriad of faces, the more stiff Ari became. The more uncomfortable. He flinched back, heart hammering, when she flung her phone to the ground. For a split second, he’d seen someone else’s rage. But this was Ari. She was… she was fine. “It’s okay. Ari, it’s okay.” His voice didn’t quite sound it. Sammy picked up the phone. The screen was cracked to hell, but the photo of Ariana next to that woman was still there, smiling up at him, like a dream team. It looked, well, normal. Not something that would make someone cry, unless… well, fuck, there were a lot of reasons someone would well up at the sight of an ugly photo. “Ariana, what’s up? What happened? You can tell me.”

All she had wanted was a nice normal night with Ace and here she was throwing her phone and crying over prom photos. Ariana should have known the photos would be a bad idea. There’d been a reason she hadn’t gone through them herself, but seeing the last photo she and Celeste would ever take together had brought on a new wave of grief that she hadn’t quite been ready to ride. Not now. Her breath was hitched in her throat and he seemed so concerned. He deserved an answer for the outburst that had clearly startled him. She tried to keep her breathing even and blink away the tears. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-- Prom was-- Something bad happened,” she gasped for another breath as if would calm the erratic thudding of her heart in her chest, “I’m not being hunted anymore because they already--” Her voice cracked and she hadn’t realized her fists had been clenched in her lap. She stretched out her shaking hands, trying to force some of the tension out of her body. Trying to find the strength to say the words she hadn’t even wanted to believe. She took a deep breath in and out, forcing herself to say the rest, “Th-they shot me with some sort of weird dart outside the hotel and took me away to some warehouse. The photo was Celeste, my sis-- She’s dead. She died saving me.”

“Ari?” Sammy swallowed, hating how awkward his body felt as he reached for her, faltered. His happy go lucky facade failing him as tears sprung in her eyes. “Something- wha-” THe words kept catching, and none of it was sinking in. They’d already what? They’d already what?? And yet part of him knew. He remembered his first hunt. Thirteen, and only half way through had his parents realised as he crumpled under the weight of a newly risen spawn that he’d been faking all those super powers all along. His family, they weren’t like that, they didn’t just hunt for the sake of it, but when they hunted. Fuck. His body trembled. Shit. There were supposed to clever words springing to his head. Something kind and comforting that would make her laugh in a sad way and then the moment would be over. “Shit. Ari, that’s so shitty.”

“It is,” Ariana managed to choke out as she wiped the tears away from her eyes. When was this going to get easier? Saying the words out loud felt like pouring salt into a still open wound every single time and she hated it. Then here was Ace, normally so positive even throughout whatever his sketchy predicament was, looking so sad for her. So at a loss for how to help because really, there was no helping it. All there was to do was to go through it and feel the loss every time it crept up on her. She took another deep breath in and out, steadying herself again. “I’m--,” she started, but realized he wouldn’t expect her to apologize for this, “I just wanted a normal night together so I didn’t start with that. Well, normal for us.” She added the last part, realizing their meetings weren’t what most would classify as normal, but she always looked forward to them. Always felt a small surge of excitement whenever they actually made it to their spot on the same night.

That’s so shitty. Real man of words there, Sammy. This, as Lydia would say, was why he wasn’t with her for his skill with words. Here was what he could do, though, which wasn’t fucking much at all, considering all his money was stolen from Lydia’s wallet and he could only get out a few nights a month. He could be there for her, right now. “Yeah, well, normal for us aint all that normal. Especially right now. I mean, you saw the eye in the sky, right?” He cracked a wry smile, and then curled his arms round her, ever so carefully. “C’mon. You don’t have to be okay right now.”

Maybe he wasn’t the best with words, but Ariana found herself letting out a chuckle as Ace spoke. Even if there were still tears in her eyes, something about Ace just being Ace was comforting. There wasn’t anything anyone could really do to make things better. She didn’t need better though. She just needed reasons to get up every morning, no matter how big or small they were. Well, Ace was more of a reason to stay out later than she should at night, but still, it helped. “You’re not wrong. Fuck that eyeball sun. All I’m saying is the moon would never.” Her smile and voice were still a little shaky. How gently Ace put his arms around her was welcomed and she leaned into him, feeling her heartbeat slow as she relaxed a bit. “I know I don’t have to be. I’m just so sick of being sad, you know?”

“The moon better not!” Sammy replied, with something that might have been a grin in any other situation, but right now was closer to a grimace. He just squeezed her tighter, cradling her in his arms as they stood in those woods. Trees creaked and at times he thought the shadows had eyes, but holding her tight, there wasn’t much here of which he was frightened. “Yeah, I know, what that’s like. That just doesn’t get rid of the sad. You just get to have feelings next to the sad too.”

There was no escaping the constant ache Ariana felt these days, but in this moment it wasn’t front and center. The feeling of his arms squeezing her even tighter sent something akin to a flutter through her chest. Even with the constant hint of sadness in the background, it was a nice moment. She could relish in the comforting sounds of the woods humming around them and how familiar Ace’s scent was becoming. Even if it was only for a few minutes, she felt okay. “Feelings next to the sad, that can work. Or it’s working,” she mumbled, head still tucked into his arms before looking back up at him, tears mostly faded away, “I am happy to see you and know we’re both okay. I know you’re not able to talk about things and I have kind of a hunch on why, but I do worry about you, too.”

“Yeah, just feel all of it.” Sammy said, tucking his chin over his heads. He held her until she looked up at him, and shit, the heartbreak in her eyes almost knocked him out all by themselves. I’ve got you, he wanted to say, but like hell he did. Only out a few nights a month, missing her half the time. “Yeah. Please don’t do anything with that hunch. I’m safe. Well,” he huffed a laugh, “As safe as any scrawny guy like me wandering these kindsa woods at night before I find my protective wolf in shining armour. Do you have like, shit, pack? Is that the right word? Or people as a whole supporting you?”

There was concern still etched in her features as he told Ariana to not do anything with her suspicions. It was a little bit late for that, but she had every intention to make sure he was not only safe, but free to live his life as he pleased. She gave his arm a squeeze and agreed anyway. It was probably safer if he didn’t know she planned to help him. “If you say so. Please tell me if you do need help though. I pack quite the punch, but I’ve got a lot of contacts, too.” She wasn’t about to lose someone else she cared about if she could do anything to help it. She lightened the mood a little bit with an arched brow and a smirk as she retorted, “You’re not that scrawny. I do like the wolf in shining armor part though.” She intended to live up to it. “Oh, yeah, I have a pack now and a pretty big found family. Lots of wolves, a few witches, a selkie, a zombie, a banshee, and hey, even won over a werewolf hunter because I’m that adorable.”

Sammy didn’t point out that he wouldn’t be able to point out that he literally couldn’t tell her either way, but he didn’t need help. He only liked sneaking out at night, he’d never… leave Lydia, or betray her. “Thanks, Ari.” He gave her another squeeze. Looking down at himself, he snickered. “Uh, yeah, I am. Skin and bones.” He grinned at her. “I like the wolf in shining armor too.” He leant them against a nearby tree, arm slung over the tree. “You know, half that list could be made up and I wouldn’t be able to tell. I’m real glad you’ve got people looking out for you like that, in the day time.”

Ariana had her doubts that he’d be able to tell her if he needed her help, it didn’t matter too much. She was going to look out for him whether he knew it or not. “Anytime,” she reassured. Ace was a bit skinny and she had to chuckle a bit at his own observation. “Okay, maybe a little scrawny, but you’re still a cute forest Batman.” She nudged his arm jokingly, still grinning a bit. “Now I’m disappointed that I didn’t say I have a pet dragon or something. But yeah, I’m definitely safe-- and hey, I’ll know if I’m ever going to die soon because of the banshee. So looks like you’re stuck with me for a while, Ace.” She followed his lead, leaning into him and the tree and found herself feeling content that they’d get to spend this evening together. She’d missed all their late night chats and she had every intention of making sure nothing got in the way of them. For now, she’d enjoy the present moment in their spot under a sparkling night sky.

#wickedswriting #sammy #ace #batman and the wolf in shining armor

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holylulusworld · 5 years

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Hopeless

Request: Dean are together since season one cap pilot, he was her first time and everything, when Dean goes to hell, she is a fucking mess, she sleeps on baby listening to his songs and doesn’t eat, she throws herself on hunts, doesn’t tell Sam, on a hunt she almost gets killed and Derek Hale saves her, they start a friendship, but Derek falls for her, Sam sees the way he looks at her, she all can think is Dean, the three of them tries to save Dean, one night she tired of everything goes and takes baby for a ride, she stops and sits on the front of the car, and she looks at the sky and prays, to someone help her to get her Dean back, she comes back and places baby, she plays the music and sleeps, later Sammy pulls a blanket on her, she is weak and giving up, on the next morning she is not there, and Dean is back, Castiel tells them that he listened her prayers and came to her he needed a pure soul to get him back so he took her soul to get Dean out, when he got Dean out he returned her soul, Dean comes to the motel and please so fluff and angst reunion, and Derek fights with Dean but she gets in the middle and chooses Dean cause is her true and only love.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Derek Hale x Reader (kinda), Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel

Warnings: grief, characters death (mentioned), sad reader, angst, loss of a loved one, violence, fighting, fluff, comforting

Please be aware I do not follow the storyline of Teen Wolf as I never watched the show.

“You need to eat something, kiddo.” Bobby rumbles as you read another book, desperately trying to find a way to get Dean back.

“I’m not hungry, Bobby. Thank you but I can’t eat if I’m not hungry.” You whisper trying to hold back more tears. For weeks you are a mess. The moment Dean got ripped open, but hellhounds, the moment the love of your life died…you died too.

“Kiddo, I know it’s hard for you, even harder than for me and Sam but Dean wouldn’t want you to starve or die on a hunt,” Bobby says sitting down next to you on his old couch. “I know you miss him, Y/N. We all do. I tried everything. Called anyone but there is no way to get Dean back.”

“There must be a way. I can’t…” Choking on tears you run out of Bobby’s house to spend another night in the backseat of Dean’s beloved car…Baby…the only thing you got left of him. This and his old worn-out leather jacket you wear every night to at least smell him.

Led Zeppelin is blaring as you try to find some sleep but as usual you can’t wrap your head around the fact Dean is gone…he’s gone. Memories float your mind... your first kiss with Dean…making out in the backseat…your first time.

How shall you ever get over him?

----

The next weeks you spend hunting anything you can find. Sam tried to stop you more than once. Tried to make you see Dean wouldn’t want you to die too.

You know he wouldn’t want you to die…you can’t be together. Not even after your death. He’s in hell and you go wherever faith decides to send you.

“You should stop hunting non-stop.” Sam sighs looking at the scratches at your cheek.

“That’s nothing. You should see the other guy…dead and gone.” You state as your friend tries to give you a cracked smile. He can’t tell you he tried anything to get his brother back. Even considered making a deal with a crossroad demon.

There is no hope left…

“I’m fine, Sam. I’m going to have a shower and sleep a bit.” You lie. Truth is you already found another hunter in Beacon Hill so you will sneak out, hunt the monster and spend some time on your own to grieve in silence.

----

“Asshole. Is that all you’ve got?” You pant walking backward to bring distance between you and the werewolf. He’s ready to pounce, gritting his teeth he smirks at you.

“Delicious little hunter, I’m going to feast on you tonight.” He chuckles but he doesn’t see another man coming. Tackling the werewolf, a tall guy rams something into the man’s chest, crushing his heart.

“You okay?” The man asks glancing over his shoulder as you fall to your knees, bleeding heavily.

“Thanks…” You groan. Just now you see the man saving you killed the man with his hands, not a weapon.

“Whoa…stay with me, pretty girl.”

----

“Thanks for calling me,” Sam says glancing at the stranger holding your hand.

“She shouldn’t hunt on her own. These wolves are older, Alphas”

“Who are you? Hunter?” Eying the black-haired man suspiciously Sam inconspicuously grabs his gun, aiming it toward the man’s head.

“Dude calm down. I’m no harm. See I’m Derek, this is my hometown and I came across the old mill as I heard a fight. I found your friend and killed the werewolf attacking her.” Derek explains.

“With bare hands.” Sam snarls.

“Guilty. I’m a werewolf too, but I do not kill people or eat their hearts. I’m an Alpha, that’s the reason I was able to kill the other werewolf that easily. I did not harm your friend. Even called you, okay. I like her smell.” Derek mutters and Sam secures his gun.

“Fine. Tell me about the other wolves and why Y/N was after them.” Sam says sitting down onto a chair. Hand grazing his gun.

“For years there is a fight going on between werewolves like me and other wolves. The others are…wild…not civilized like my family and our allies. Sometimes they attack and innocent bystanders get killed. I wanted to take care of Caleb as he killed a boy some days ago.” Derek explains glancing at Sam and then at your unconscious form.

“Thanks for saving her. She’s having a hard time. My brother, her boyfriend died recently, and she throws herself into hunts. Reckless. I don’t know what to do. I tried anything to get Dean back.” Sam sighs and Derek glances at you.

“I could stick around and help. I know some powerful witches and I read a lot of books about the supernatural in general. Maybe we can find a way to help Y/N.” Derek suggests and Sam nods. Not trusting Derek’s motives but if he can help to get Dean back…so be it.

---

Weeks have passed after the incident and you must admit Derek is a nice guy. Smart, funny and strong. He is helpful during hunts and you would call him a friend even.

Sam is watching you right now, or rather he is watching Derek watching you.

Led Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble on’ is blaring out of the Impala as you dance in front of the car, wearing Dean’s jacket. This way you feel connected with the man you lost…this way you feel less lonely.

Derek’s eyes wander to your legs, back to your hips swaying to the music and a growl leaves his lips. Sam is watching Derek with concern. You do not recognize the way your new friend is looking at you, too distracted by finding a way to get Dean back.

----

More days have passed, and you just can’t take it anymore. Sam and Derek try to convince you to move on, or to not give up hope but you reached the bottom.

The night is chilly, the stars shine bright and you decide to go on a ride, to change the scenery for a short amount of time. So you grab Dean’s jacket, Baby’s keys and speed off to the spot Dean and you used to visit to watch the stars together.

Lying on Baby’s hood you try to decide what to do with the rest of your life, but you only imagined your life with Dean.

Your eyes fill with tears once again as you fold your hands, praying to anyone out there, up there…even down there to help you getting Dean back. Every thought, every word leaving your lips is a plea to anyone out there…

An hour or two later you realize how stupid the idea was to pray to someone to come and help you getting Dean back. Devastated, defeated and without any hope, you drive back to Bobby’s…

----

Sam heard the Impala minutes ago so he silently walk out of the house to see you sobbing in the backseat. Weakly clinging to Dean’s leather jacket you mumble Dean’s name as Sam covers you with a soft blanket.

“Sleep a bit, Y/N. We will find a way, promised.” Sam lies and you are too far gone to respond.

----

“Where is Y/N?” Derek asks glancing at the empty bed in your room.

“Slept in the Impala as almost every night.” Sam sighs walking out of the house only to stop in his tracks. His hands start shaking as he drinks the figure in standing next to the Impala.

“Sammy?” Dean gasps. “How…? Did one of you do something stupid?”

“Dean…” Sam sniffles as Bobby splashes holy water into Dean’s face.

“I told you it’s me, Bobby. Was the silver knife not enough?” Dean mutters. “Where is Y/N?”

“In the backseat,” Sam says pointing toward Dean’s car, but his brother shakes his head.

“No. she ain’t in the car. There was only my leather jacket.” Dean says and Sam’s hands start shaking again, this time due to fear…

“Y/N…did you do something stupid?” Sam pants ripping the door to the backseat open.

“I think I can explain this.” A man in a trench coat says popping up next to Sam.

“Holy…” Dean curses.

“Close. I’m an angel of the Lord. I heard Y/N’s prayers and gripped you tight to raise you from perdition.” The angel says. “My name is Castiel.”

“Great but this doesn’t explain where Y/N is,” Derek mutters and Dean glares at the foreign man.

“Who are you?” Dean barks.

“Y/N’s friend…”

“Friend?” Gasping Dean looks at Sam who is shaking his head. “Only a friend, Dean.”

“Y/N is safe at a motel close by. She needs to rest. I had to borrow her soul, as I needed a pure soul to get yours back, Dean. Now you are back I returned her soul but the procedure was exhausting and I put her to sleep in a bed…” Castiel explains and Dean gulps.

“Where is she, angel?” Dean asks.

----

“She is in there. I suggest to not stress her too much. Her soul is back but she’s still weak and needs to rest. Maybe eat something. I think Y/N didn’t eat well for weeks.” The angel says before vanishing.

“Son of a bitch! Stealing a girls soul and leaving her alone in a motel room.” Dean curses storming into the motel room with Derek hot on his heels.

“Y/N?” Dean whispers as you slowly open your eyes…smiling. “What a pleasant dream. I hope you would visit me in my dream. I’m so lost without you, Dean. Can you stay for a while?” You ask.

“Maybe he should just leave. According to what Bobby said he didn’t care he would die and leave you alone. He didn’t think twice, only wanted to save his brother, Y/N. I would never leave you like this…” Derek spats and Dean glares at him.

“Who asked you for your opinion, jerk!” Dean retorts. Puffing his chest.

“I saved her as you were busy rotting in hell. She’s mine now.”

“The hell, she is my girl…you can’t have her.” Dean is ready to attack Derek without thinking twice.

Derek raises his fists as you get off the bed, getting between both men you shake your head. “Derek, I like you as a friend and I’m grateful you saved me back then, but I only love Dean, no one else. My heart belongs to him…always…forever…” You say and Derek nods.

“I got it. I know when a girl doesn’t want me. I better take my leave. If you ever need my help…give me a call.” Derek sighs watching you hugging and kissing Dean.

“I’ve missed you so much, Dean.” You sniffle pawing at this shoulders, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’ve missed you too. No cute girls down there.” Dean chuckles.

“I took good care of your Baby.” You state proudly and Dean sniffles. “But you didn’t take care of my favorite Baby. I guess now I need to take care of you.”

“I was just hopeless without you…”

“I know…I swear I’ll never leave you again. Never…”

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @electraphygelectraphyng , @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby , @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers,@guardian-tn, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @destieladdict-221b, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove

If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @hawaiianohana31, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam

#spn #spn fanfiction #angst #Sam Winchester #bobby singer #derek hale #dean winchester #castiel #request fill #dean winchester one shot #Dean Winchester One Shots *Request Fills only*#dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 6 years

Text

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Stiles Stilinski is trying to juggle homework, high school, stupid dumb crushes on unattainable people, and werewolves. Keeping the supernatural secret from his dad is hard enough, but when it comes to Stella, his eight-year-old sister, it turns out it’s impossible.

You can find the Tumblr Chapter Index here, or read here on AO3.

CHAPTER 1

“Dad!” Stella yells as she comes thumping down the stairs. “Stiles let a werewolf in the house!”

Stiles freezes for a second, his pop tarts burning his fingers as he grabs them from the toaster. Then his brain reminds him that this hurts, and he swears under his breath as he juggles them onto a plate, spinning around to see what their dad’s reaction is going to be.

“Did he?” Dad asks mildly as Stella storms into the kitchen. He doesn’t even look up from whatever message he’s reading on his phone. “No werewolves in the house, son.”

“Right,” Stiles says, and smirks at Stella. “No werewolves in the house.”

“It’s true!” Stella bellows. “Dad! It’s true!”

Stella’s eight. She has a vivid imagination, and she can stick to a lie for weeks. Dad probably thinks this is just like the time that she claimed she ate twelve donuts in one sitting, or that Mrs. Sanders from across the road is really a bank robber, or that she punched a zombie so hard that its head fell off.

Stella Stilinski is a lying liar who lies.

Stiles makes a face at her, his heart thumping wildly, and escapes with his pop tarts to the living room.

“You’re not eating pop tarts for dinner, are you?” Dad calls after him.

“Of course not!” Stiles yells back.

Stiles Stilinski is also a lying liar who lies.

It runs in the family.

***

Dad has been on night shift this week, so Stiles has to get Stella to bed. They used to have a sitter, Mrs. Levinson, but she moved to Florida a few weeks ago, and even before that her knees weren’t great, so Stiles usually ended up taking Stella upstairs and putting her to bed anyway to save her the trip. When Mrs. Levinson retired, Dad made noise about hiring someone else, but Stiles is sixteen now, and it’s not like he’s incapable of looking after his sister at night, right? Also, this way Dad could up his allowance.

Except werewolves. Werewolves are a thing that happened. And werewolves and all their related supernatural fuckery do not respect the fact that Stiles can’t just go gallivanting around town at night anymore. Not that he should have been doing any nocturnal gallivanting in the first place, but, well. Stiles and impulse control have never been in a working relationship. When Mrs. Levinson was snoozing in front of the TV downstairs it was easy for Stiles to climb out his window and escape—hence the night he dragged Scott into the woods and Scott got bitten in the first place—but now? He can’t leave an eight-year-old kid alone in the house, and if he tells Dad that maybe they should look at getting another sitter after all, Dad’s going to want to know why. And Stiles doesn’t have an answer for that. At all.

So he stays in, and he locks the doors, and werewolves still happen.

Persistently.

Werewolves do not respect locked doors.

At least, Derek Hale doesn’t. He just uses a window instead.

Which is how he turned up last night, bleeding from somewhere underneath his ridiculously tight shirt, making vague threats about Scott having to stay away from the Argents—ha! As if Stiles or any power in the universe can stop him!—and generally growling and flashing his eyes and his fangs. And then, in the middle of bleeding all over Stiles’s floor, he’d suddenly stopped, winced as he’d straightened up, and said: “Who’s that?”

And Stiles had turned around to find Stella standing in his bedroom doorway in her My Little Pony pajamas, a teddy bear shoved under her arm, and a very suspicious look on her very suspicious little face.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles had said.

“I’m Stella,” Stella had announced. “Are you a werewolf?”

Derek had looked at Stiles.

Stiles had looked at Derek.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles had said again.

“You said a bad word,” Stella had informed him. “Twice!”

So werewolves are a thing, which Stiles has known for weeks, but now Stella also knows. Sometimes Stiles thinks his life can’t get any messier, and sometimes the universe laughs in his face and tells him to hold its beer and watch this.

Stiles finishes his pop tarts while sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. He can still hear Stella thumping around upstairs, probably still pissed because Dad didn’t believe her. For an eight-year-old, she can hold a grudge.

That’s probably genetic too.

Stiles grabs the remote control and channel surfs for a while. He looks up when Dad appears.

“I’m off,” Dad says. “Try to get to bed before midnight, huh?”

“Oh, totally,” Stiles lies. “Have a good shift, Dad.”

Dad shows him a tired smile. “Stella? I’m going to work!”

Stella comes thumping down the stairs again, flings herself into Dad’s arms for a hug, and then, when Dad leaves, sits down on the couch beside Stiles and glares at him.

“Go and have a shower,” he tells her. “It’s almost your bedtime.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she grumbles, and then sighs, and her little body slumps into the couch cushions. “Will you come and read me a story?”

She’s still holding that grudge, Stiles knows, but story time is sacrosanct.

“Of course,” he tells her, like he’s dying to find out what happens in the next chapter of Matilda and isn’t just humouring her.

Although, who is he kidding? He actually is dying to find out what happens next. Matilda is awesome.

Stella grins at him, and goes upstairs to shower.

***

There’s a framed photograph in Stella’s bedroom. Dad took the picture. It’s Mom, with Stiles sitting on one side of her, and baby Stella—weird and new and squishy-faced—in her arms. It used to sit on the desk in Dad’s office, but he put it in Stella’s room after Mom died. On the frame, in beautiful cursive lettering it says, ‘Claudia, Agnieszka & Mieczysław’. By the time he was eight, Stiles was already calling himself Stiles. By the time Stella arrived, he was already calling her Stella, because Mom and Dad told him as soon as they found out that he was getting a little sister, and he wanted her to have a name that sounded like his.

Their nicknames both kind of stuck.

His Mom used to call him Mischief.

He wonders what she would have called Stella, but by the time Stella was already a few months old, some days Mom didn’t even remember she had a new baby.

She went downhill very fast, from diagnosis to death within the year.

Sometimes Stiles worries that there’s a time bomb inside his skull, and inside Stella’s. He sometimes worries that when he forgets something simple, or stumbles over a word, that it’s happening, that it’s already too late.

He looks away from the photograph, his throat aching, as Stella bounces into the room. She’s wearing Stiles’s old stud muffin t-shirt, which she’s stolen and claimed as pajamas even though it still fits Stiles, thanks very much, and a towel bundled around her wet hair.

Stiles sighs and picks up the comb from her dresser. If it were up to Stella she’d go to sleep with it like that, and wake up in the morning with a cross between a rat’s nest and a beehive. Stiles has learned this from bitter experience.

He sits down on Stella’s bed, shifting back so she can plant herself in front of him, and starts the work of getting the tangles out.

“Stiles?” she asks after a while. “Are werewolves a secret?”

Stiles’s stomach clenches. “Yeah. A big secret.”

“Dad says secrets are bad,” Stella reminds him. “That if grownups ask you to keep secrets, it’s not right, and you’re supposed to tell Dad or Mrs. McCall or a teacher.”

Stiles exhales. Yeah, Dad is the sheriff. He knows all about the secrets some adults ask kids to keep. Secrets are bad. Surprises—like Stiles’s thirteenth birthday party—are okay. Stella hadn’t known that at the time, and tearfully spilled the beans at breakfast the week beforehand. In the Stilinski household there is now a firm line drawn between secrets and surprises.

“That’s true,” he says.

“You’re almost a grownup,” she says, twisting around to face him. “And you want me to keep a secret.”

Sometimes Stiles wonders if she even knows how much she can punch him in the gut with just a look.

“Most grownups don’t know about werewolves,” Stiles says, working the comb carefully through her hair. “It would be very dangerous for werewolves if they found out. People might try to hurt them.”

People already have. The Hales are a testament to that.

Stella makes a small noise. “Is that why that boy was bleeding?”

“Yeah.” Stiles thinks of Derek’s bloodstained shirt, pulled tight across his abdomen, the tears in the fabric revealing an expanse of already-healed skin. A part of him also registers some amusement at hearing anyone refer to Derek Hale as a boy, instead of the chiselled-from-marble specimen of manhood that he is. But the less said about that, and the uncomfortable levels of arousal he feels whenever Derek is in his vicinity, the better. “There are people who hurt werewolves. Hunters. So that’s why we keep them a secret.”

“Oh.” Stella is silent for a moment. “Like how if you know who a superhero is, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Right.”

“Superheroes aren’t supposed to be real either,” she points out. “Is Batman real?”

“I’m pretty sure Batman’s not real.”

“That makes sense,” Stella decides. “If he was real and trying to be a secret, anyone who reads the comics would know he’s Bruce Wayne.”

“That is a good point.”

Stella tilts her head. “I won’t tell anyone about werewolves then.”

“Good. That’s good. It’s really important that nobody finds out.” Stiles pauses for a moment, and hooks an arm around her for a quick hug. Then he finishes combing through her hair, and plaits it into a loose braid. Stella holds up her hand and he tugs the hair elastic off her wrist to finish up. “There. All done. Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yep!”

Stiles pushes her away gently and stands up so that she can climb under her comforter. “Are we reading more Matilda tonight?”

Her dark eyes light up, so Stiles picks up the book from her nightstand and settles in to read.

***

Stella’s bedtime is eight, so once she’s in bed Stiles heads downstairs to grab a snack. Then, a can of Pringles wedged under his arm, he goes back upstairs to his room to work on his homework. Homework and babysitting. That’s his life. And to think Stiles had started this year with a plan to become popular! The allowance his dad pays him puts gas in his Jeep, which is great, but also, now he has nowhere to go. He likes to think that if he didn’t have to spend so much time looking after Stella that he’d have a bunch of awesome parties to go to, but who is he kidding? He’s not that popular, and nobody wants to invite the Sheriff’s kid to the fun parties anyway.

Homework and babysitting and werewolves.

Jesus. His eight-year-old sister knows about werewolves, and Stiles has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do about that.

He falls asleep in front of his laptop and his half-finished English paper.

#my fics #sterek #discontentedwinter #Stella and the Wolf

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kidgetrash · 6 years

Text

Pyrophyte - A Werewolf/Witch AU

Characters: Keith Kogane, Pidge/Katie Holt, Matt Holt, Sam Holt, Colleen Holt, pretty much everyone will be here eventually!

Pairings: Keith/Pidge|Katie

Tags: Action/adventure, Fantasy AU, smut, fluff, angst, swearing, violence.

Summary: Katie Holt and her brother, Matt, are gifted with elemental powers, but while Katie's are calm and helpful, Matt's are destructive and frightening. When Matt runs away Katie sets off from their family home to find him, leading her into the woods where she meets a handsome stranger who is more than he seems. Join Pidge and Keith on a fantasy adventure that takes them halfway across a kingdom to discover not only the truth behind an ancient legend but within themselves.

A/N: Okay peeps! Just in time for Keith’s birthday, I present the Werewolf/Witch Au that spawned from the incredible mind of @piixiefawn ! This was her concept and we have spent the last few weeks both fleshing this out and giggling like idiots when things ran away with us! There will be art to go with this series by the wonderful Pixie herself and I will continue to fit in writing it as and when I can! There is no posting schedule other than I will try and make it whenever I can!

For now, relax and enjoy!

Prologue

Her mother had always warned her about wolves. They were nothing more than brutal killers, vicious and non-discriminatory. Maybe she should have listened, maybe she should have never ventured this far into the dark wood that her entire village avoided. They told stories around the fire at night, in the tavern, of creatures that dwelled, worse than the wolves still, but without hard proof she had never believed it.

Katie Holt knew the forest like the back of her hand, both she and Matt did. Not that their parents knew that. For years they had snuck off, using the peace and seclusion to tinker with their powers, improving on the little tricks they had learnt over the years at a safe distance from anything combustible or valuable, always returning for dinner with claims that they had been to the village. She was truly hoping this knowledge would lead her to her wayward brother. The fact he was unprepared worried her, she was unsure what he had taken but knew it wasn’t enough. In her heart she hoped he would return with her but her logical mind told her that might not be the case, and if he chose to stay at least she could give him his cape and reassure him he could return home any time.

She has a fair idea of where Matt might have gone, his direction at least, but his destination beyond that she was uncertain. He had talked so often about the places he longed to visit and the quickest way was through the forest. They didn’t fear the forest, neither of them, despite the tales the villagers told, and she knew this was the way he had planned to travel. Going around the forest added at least a day onto the journey, by their estimates, and it had seemed silly not to go the shortest route when they were so confident. Of course, they had never visited the forest at night.

Katie’s belief that the forest would remain unchanged during the night was quickly destroyed, the familiar surroundings suddenly dark and foreboding. The nocturnal sounds of the forest she had found comforting from her bed were emphasised up close, haunting and eerie, every sound sending shivers down her spine and raising goosebumps on her skin. She had always felt at home in the forest; being among nature was akin to being among family for her; but now she felt small and insignificant, an interloper being watched by those who truly belonged, those who hunted, those who preyed, those who ate...

Katie picked up her pace, moving as quickly as she dared through the undergrowth, her heart beating a staccato in time with her rapid footfalls. The lantern in her hand cast spectral shadows all around, the undergrowth seeming to move all around her. She tried to logic it away that it was her eyes playing tricks on her, there couldn’t really be that many things out here, they had never seen a single predator in all these years, but as a howl went up she reconsidered that assessment fairly quickly. A branch broke behind her and she spun, missing her footing and stumbling onto her rear. She put her hands back to lessen the fall but knocked the lantern from her grasp, and it rolled out of reach.

The new position of the lantern cast her shadow against a large tree and her eyes darted around, listening for any sound, any sign that the noise had been random, which was when she became aware of a low growl. Every hair on her body sprang to life at once, fear dragging its nails down her spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake. The growl grew louder as her heart began to pound loud enough for her to hear, but not enough to drown out the primordial sound that had her fight or flight instinct screaming at her to get up and run. And yet she couldn’t move, she felt paralysed as her breath left her body in shuddering gasps, and before her, like something from her worst nightmare, a pair of amber eyes appearing from the darkness her shadow cast, the growl increasing with its approach. The wolf was almost as big as the ponies traders brought to the village, she could have easily mounted it, but while it was a large creature it was evidently underfed, and that perhaps scared Katie all the more.

‘You know,’ Katie said quietly as she edged backwards, ‘I’m not really a threat, I’m just passing through, so I’m just going to get out of here and…’ Another wolf appeared on her left, smaller than the first, and was soon joined by three more around the area. She was almost surrounded. ‘Oh, you have friends!’ She babbled nervously. ‘Or family. Yeah, I have one too, in fact I’m looking for one of them so I have to go.’ She had almost reached the lantern and she carefully drew her knees up, placing her feet in readiness to stand. The approach of the wolves was painfully slow, each foot falling silently in a gradual progression that made her realise they were toying with her, that the snap of the branch had been deliberate. They wanted some fun before they fed. Katie swallowed hard. ‘So…I’m just going to get out of here, leave you…in peace.’ She said as her hand gripped the handle of the lantern and she began to push to her feet. Which was when the lead wolf’s growl turned into a snarl, teeth bared as it stopped still, lowering itself in readiness to pounce. ‘Oh crap.’ Katie murmured, freezing in place as she risked a glance down at the wolves’ feet, sending her power towards the undergrowth around it. She skittered to her feet and bolted away, even as she heard the jaws snap as the wolf leapt forward. She knew it wouldn’t get any further, not for a moment or two, as she had tangled it and its pack mates in the vegetation, but she was sure it wouldn’t hold them for long. She had to hope she could put some space between them, maybe find a tree to climb, anything.

She turned down the lantern so she wasn’t so obvious in the darkness, and that was her next mistake. They would still hear her, they would still catch her scent, and they would definitely find her now she had tripped over a raised root and fallen headlong with a yelp, her hood falling over her eyes, temporarily blinding her.

Panic gripped Katie, her chest tight and stomach churning, fingers gripping the lantern tightly as she tried to fight through the fear and get back to her feet. Her basket was beside her, she could feel it against her side, and she suddenly regretted not bringing something to defend herself with. But first, she needed to see, for what good it would do her in the dark. She swept the hood back and it cost her valuable time.

A weight landed on her back, a weight with a deep growl and hot breath on the back of her neck. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t even cry out for help, fear paralysing her more effectively than any of the poisonous plants her mother had taught her to avoid. Something wet and warm dripped onto the back of her neck and she choked out a sob, screwing her eyes up tight as the last dregs of hope drained from her. She lay there and waited for the inevitable.

Katie spent what she thought would be her last moments praying to the old gods, to any of the many deities her parents had told her about in stories of the constellations, praying for Matt to return home safely, for her parents not to find whatever might be left of her, and finally for a swift and merciful death. It seemed to be the most sensible thing to do.

She stilled her breathing, afraid to inhale deeply, this moment frozen, even the wolf silenced, and then she realised why. A deeper growl was omitting from her right, a noise straight out of her worst nightmares and darkest imagination, something that even the wolves were afraid of. It got louder, although whether it was getting closer or just increasing in volume she was unsure, and the wolf on her back shifted then stepped off her. Still she didn’t dare move, and she just lay there, waiting, until she heard the wolves dart away, which left her with what she assumed was a bigger problem. Whatever this was was obviously the forest big bad something, and the fear inside her didn’t lessen any, but she knew she had one chance.

She grasped the lantern tightly as the undergrowth rustled, the sound getting closer, and she spun, turning the flame back up as she did so, hoping it might scare whatever creature this was long enough for her to run.

What she saw had her freeze again, but this time for a different reason. Standing over her, with a hand held towards her, was one very tall, very handsome, naked man.

#voltron #kidge #Pidge #keith #pyrophyte #werewolf/witch au #fantasy au #my fave piixiefawn #piixiefawn and kt #piixie & kt

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ezilyamuzed · 6 years

Text

There’s no place like home- Part Two

Summary: The reader has had a unique gift all her life. While considering it a curse, she discovers the identity of her real father after her mothers passing. Journeying towards her new life, she finds herself thrown within the Winchester’s world. Is it her destiny?

Setting: End of season 13. This takes place between 13.17 and 13.18.

Warnings: language. POV may switch after certain sections.

A/N: I am new at posting these online, so please be patient. Do not mistake my lack of experience for ignorance if I do not quite get it yet. Sorry for any grammatical errors. This is part two of a series that has been in the works while watching the episodes unfold. Thanks for taking the time to read! Comments are always appreciated.

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Sam couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. What you said about them ruining the world wasn’t exactly wrong. They didn’t mean to do any of those things, but somehow they were always involved in a major way when it came to the impending doom of humanity. Saving people was what their ultimate goal was, but in the process they have ended up hurting so many others. So many that they cared about that they promised to protect. What exactly would Bobby have said when she yelled at them? What would he have done? Sam knew one thing for sure, Y/N had to be protected. Not only was she Bobby’s daughter, but a girl that had a pretty normal life while trying to hunt monsters a concept impossible to him to even fathom. The idea that any harm could happen to her made Sam feel like his insides were twisted. He had to make this better for her. He had to watch over her. That’s what a brother would do, and as far as he was concerned she was family now.

Dean was already passed out when Sam got back. He had been able to get a couple hours of sleep in before Dean had texted and said they needed to meet. He sat in the raggedy old chair in the hotel and opened up his lap top, curious as to what Y/N was and who she was. What did she say she could do? Read auras? Did that mean she was clairvoyant? Probably not, didn’t really fit her description of her capabilities. Sam dug through the web trying to see if anything popped up that made sense. Synesthesia came up came up after a couple of pages, the crossing of the senses. Maybe this was it or at least a scientific reasoning behind her abilities? Sam could not help but to think he was wasting his time now as the afternoon approached. A google search was not going to answer all of his questions. Perhaps she was a new type of supernatural being. Cas would probably know, but who knows where he was right now. Whatever she is, Sam couldn’t help but to think how useful having powers like that would be on the road during a normal hunt. Right now he wished that was all he had in front of him. A normal monster or a quick salt and burn. He could already feel the stress rising in him as he thought about the impending doom that seemed inevitable. Michael and his angels destroying the world.

Dean started shifting in the bed like he was going to wake up. Sam shut the lap top and stared at his brother still snoring. Dean was such an ass to her before. How could she even consider them being around? Not only was Dean an ass, but she clearly had hatred for the name Winchester. Sam wanted to prove her wrong. They weren’t the fuckups that she had heard of, they were just normal good guys trying to help the world. Well as normal as they could be in this life. It wasn’t their fault that they were born to lead this life. Higher powers pushed them towards it. He picked up the keys to the impala and set forth to Y/N’s hotel. He had to try again with her.

After figuring out which room she was in by showing one of the fake badges to the front desk Sam walked up to her door. Definitely not the kind of hotel he was used to. You could actually smell something sweet in the air, not the musty smell of aged furniture. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“No housekeeping!” yelled Y/N on the other side.

“Y/N, its Sam.” He yelled back through the door while shifting his weight in unease.

Y/N opened the door looking like death had run her over. Hair in a tangled bun of a mess on top of her head and make up smeared around her eyes. Sam tried not to glance down and notice the too short of shorts on her with an oversized Journey tee.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I figured you might want a ride to your car and maybe some lunch?” Sam said apprehensively.

She rubbed her eyes, only spreading the make up more. She looked like a little raccoon now. A short little raccoon that was probably capable of taking him down within seconds.

“Yeah, sounds okay. Give me 10 minutes okay? I’ll meet you in the lobby” she said with her eyes half shut and a yawn escaping her mouth.

____________________________________________________________

Ugh, who the hell is it knocking on your door this early?

“No housekeeping!” you yelled while still holding the pillow tight to your face. You glanced at the clock on the little nightstand next to you realizing it was well after noon as you heard the voice from behind the door yell that it was Sam. The giant of a man with puppy dog eyes was knocking on your door after you had basically told him that you hated him and his brother. What could he possibly want? You got up from the bed, not caring what you looked like. He was no one that you cared at all to impress, even with him trying to ask nice last night.

As you opened up the door he immediately spoke up as if he was holding in a speech he had prepared. You needed to get your car and the rumble in your stomach told you that you should probably eat something sooner rather than later. He was trying and you could see it. It would take a lot to change your mind about him and his brother, but you appreciated his effort. You reluctantly agreed while remembering that you did care at least a little bit about others seeing you in this condition, so you told him to give you a few minutes.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you turned on the hot water. God you looked like hell. No not hell, you looked like you just wrestled with a werewolf and won. A grin appeared on your face remembering how easy it was to drop him down. The grin grew a bit larger when you remembered the look of shock on Dean’s face like he couldn’t believe someone like you just took down the Big Bad wolf. There was an appreciation in proving that you weren’t just some “little girl” which he had called you during your initial encounter.

The dream you had about Charlie started to rise into your thoughts. She was right about one thing, they were handsome. But you could not see how they were like brothers to someone who was so warm and fun to be with. You wondered if you should mention her in front of them, but decided that since you haven’t seen her in years it was probably a bad idea. What if they no longer spoke? Even worse, in this business what if something happened to her because of them?

You threw on a white t-shirt, a clean pair of jean shorts and your comfy sneakers. You were able to get rid of the raccoon eyes, but there was no need to apply any other make-up. Again, you didn’t care to impress your driving companion on the way to your car and food. You brushed your teeth and hair fast while you looked around for your things. Wallet, keys, and knife. Check.

It had only taken 15 minutes since Sam walked away from your door to get ready. He could live with the extra 5 minutes you took. You see him standing in the lobby looking very out of place amongst the business men checking in and the dolled up housewives gripping their purses and shopping bags. He wore very beat up jeans, boots, and yet another flannel shirt. Did this man not realize it was almost summer?

He smiled at you as you walked past him, immediately heading for the old impala. This was the car that was parked next to yours when you met them. It had seemed like it was in pristine condition when you had rushed past it yesterday to get into your car. After last night’s adventures and the brightness of the sun today you start to notice that this car has been through a lot. Tiny little marks along the fenders suggest that the drive on the dirt road last night had definitely not been the first. As Sam opened the door for you, you slid in and noticed how worn the steering wheel was, like someone had held on to it for life on more than one occasion. The seats worn down suggesting that hours have been spent by people sitting in them. A slight smell of men’s musk filled the air as you shut the door. These boys spend way too much time in here. A slight smile came across your lips when you realized that one could say that same about your baby, you spent way too much time with her as well.

Sam had already gotten in as you looked over to him and said, “Nice car here”. He gave you a smile back as he turned the ignition over bringing her to life. The purr of your baby always provided a soothing release for you when you were stressed, and this one was no different.

“Thanks, it was my dad’s” he said while making sure there was no one in his way as he backed out of the spot.

“Was?” you asked trying to be civil and have a simple conversation to get to know this man more. It’s not like they gave any insight to their lives, and while you knew about them you never heard their full story.

While not letting his eyes leave the road he simply replied, “Yeah. He died about 12 years ago now.”

You couldn’t help but to feel bad that you had brought it up. Even with all of your training you have had in being empathetic when emotional situations were brought up, you did not want to use any of them right now. He was not your client. He was just a man giving you a ride to your car was the agreement you had come to within your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “So in like 5 blocks you are going to make a right.”

He nodded in agreement with your directions. He might have actually been aware of where he was going already. Dean probably told him. He reached over to the radio and turned on whatever tape was inside. A smirk ran across your face as you started to recognize the tune. “Of Wolf and Man by Metallica,” you found yourself stating towards Sam.

His eyebrows raised and glanced over at you with a smirk on his face. “I don’t know really anyone else but my brother that could name that song so fast.”

“Well some people I guess don’t appreciate the greats in the world,” you said while looking up ahead. “I’m parked right over there”.

Sam looked into the direction that you were pointing and let out quick laugh. “That is your car?”

You looked at him confused and quickly answered “yes” with a hint of a question mark at the end. Was he being a typical guy and thinking that a girl didn’t deserve to be driving a “man’s car” or was he really interested?

“When we saw it yesterday at the coffee shop Dean stared it down. I think secretly he liked it but of course this will always be baby,” he said while patting the dashboard.

Baby? Dean calls his car baby too? You started to feel yourself becoming disgusted by all the things you were finding to have in common with this man, but also intrigued at what else you might share with him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an ass you might have considered getting to know him.

He pulls right up next to your baby and your heart sank as you saw it. FUCK! The back window laid in shards all over the ground. You jumped out before Sam had even fully stopped the car. This was not happening. Who hurt your baby? Your fists start to tighten up next to you as you hear Sam on the phone with whom you presumed to be Jody telling her what had happened.

Only 30 minutes later you found yourself saying goodbye to your baby as she was being pulled by a tow truck to the local repair shop. Jody was down to you within minutes going over every detail in your car to make sure that nothing had been taken. She had reassured you that she would figure it out, but you knew that there was probably a slim chance in actually catching the assholes responsible.

Sam sat down next to you on the curb as the tow truck pulled away. You tried to cover up the tears that started growing in your eyes. Don’t let him see how much this hurt you. How everything just kept going from bad to worse. He moved his arm to embrace you, but stopped himself short as you started to tense up at his presence.

“Take me back Sam,” You said softy while looking away in the distance.

Sam looked at you and nodded even though you couldn’t see him. The both of you walked slowly back to the impala in silence and rode back to your hotel.

___________________________________________________________

Dean heard the loud noise of a car door shut outside of his room as he started to wake up. What a night. Bobby’s offspring was just like him; tough and stubborn. He heard a loud knock on his motel room door, he started to reach under his pillow to pull out his hidden gun when he heard the familiar motherly tone yelled at him. “Dean open up.”

He got up and opened the door, stepping to the side for Jody to walk in all dressed in her sheriff’s uniform. “We need to talk,” she said as she sat herself down at the tiny kitchen table. Dean sat down next to her in the other chair at the table as if she was commanding him to do so. She took a deep sigh before looking directly at him and saying, “We’ve got trouble”.

“What kind of trou…” Dean started to ask as Jody stopped him by holding up her phone to show a picture of an old Camaro with a broken out window. “Nice car. Sucks to be the owner. Who’s is its?” he said while wiping the sleep put of his eyes.

“Y/N’s” was all she said while still holding up the phone.

Y/N’s car? The girl had some taste. He definitely didn’t expect that. He thought she was probably an ecofriendly driving judgmental bitch with an attitude.

“Why does her broken out window mean there’s trouble. Maybe she just pissed off someone else with her bitchy attitude?” Dean said while getting up from his seat to grab a water bottle from his bag.

“Because she killed a werewolf last night. Because I watched the footage. Dean, it was another wolf that did this,” she said with concern in her voice.

Ffffuuuccckk. Of course it was. He hadn’t of thought about the fact that werewolves rarely travel alone last night as he had helped her dispose of the body. He took a large gulp from the water bottle. “Claire and Alex are already on it,” said Jody from behind him.

“So you want us to help them gank this monster?” Dean said while turning back to her.

“No I want you and Sam to watch out for Y/N. She doesn’t know yet, and honestly with all the crap that she has walked into in the last couple of days, I don’t really want her to.”

“So babysitting duty?” Dean said with a scowl on his face.

Jody gave him a smirk while she crossed her arms. “Think of it as a chance to actually get to know one another. Your latest impressions didn’t exactly woo her into thinking that you are a good guy.” She got up to walk to him and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. “Prove to her that Bobby helped raise the decent man I know you to be. Show her all the goodness that I know you like to hide away from the world.”

Dean sighed and looked her in the eyes, “I’ll try. I can’t say that I will like it, but I will try”.

Jody had left soon after, letting Dean know that she or one of the girls will stay in contact about the wolf hunt. Dean was already showered and dressed when he heard the door unlocking with Sam following directly in with the swoosh of the door.

“So Y/N’s managed to piss off something else,” Dean said while tossing his dirty clothes in his bag. Sam’s eyes widen, questioning how Dean could possibly have known about her car. “Jody stopped by.”

Sam nodded and sat down on the bed while opening up his lap top. “Jody said the girls were on the case. We are on babysitting duty,” Dean said while grabbing a beer out of the little green and white cooler that was their traveling companion.

Sam looked up from his screen, “So what’s the plan?”

Dean paused and shrugged. He looked down at his beer. “This,” he said with a shrug while shaking his bottle.

______________________________________________________________

When Jody had watched the video footage from the bar, the feeling of dread was confirmed. Another werewolf had smashed out Y/N's window because of the scent she had left at the scene. Dean was there too, so he was probably in danger as well. He, of course, would run at the chance to take down a werewolf, but that is not what he should be doing right now. He should be trying to get to know Y/N, Bobby's daughter. She made the call that the boys wouldn't be involved in this hunt. Not this time.

After visiting Dean at the hotel to implement her plan of making Dean and Sam spend time with Y/N, she went back home where Donna, Alex, and Claire were waiting.

"We got a job to do," Jody said to the group of girls sitting around the kitchen table.

"What kind of job?" Claire asked with excitement. It had been a couple of days of quiet around the area, and Jody knew she was getting restless.

"There was a werewolf attack last night over at the Irish pub," Jody started to reply, but Alex interrupted her.

"There wasn't any news at the hospital about an attack, just a drunk girl that was passed out in their ally."

Jody nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he was stopped before any damage was done to his victim."

"So if he was stopped, then what are we doing here then?" Claire said with a roll of her eyes.

Jody glanced back and forth between the three women in front of her and sighed audibly. "There's another one hot on their tail. They attacked their car that was left at the bar last night. It was it was probably just following the scent." Jody said reluctantly.

She knew that she should have had the conversation with the girls about Y/N, but she hadn't been ready. Every time she thought about the news the last couple of days has brought, emotions fled through her that she didn't want to face. No. It was that she couldn't face them. Anything that brought up the memory of Bobby made her feel completely helpless. She knew that there was nothing that she could have done to save him aside from selling her soul to make a deal, but he would never have wanted that. Bobby Singer was a selfless man, who only cared about the safety of others. A trait that she had noticed about Y/N as well.

Jody knew she couldn't keep everything to herself anymore as she started to explain everything from the beginning. The girls all listened quietly while giving their full attention to the story of Bobby's daughter, her gifts, and her quick takedown of the beast.

"So it's mate, she's a ticked off, eh?" Donna asked with her Minnesota accent. Jody nodded and gave them a detailed description of her appearance that was seen on the camera footage.

"So why exactly aren't the Winchester's doing anything? Or that girl for that matter, since obviously, she can take care of herself. Why is this our case?" Claire asked while raising an eyebrow to Jody.

"Things definitely did not go well between them. Dean was his normal charming self when he is suspicious of someone’s intentions," Jody said while rolling her eyes towards Donna.

"Oh, I know how that one looks. He's not the friendliest hunter in the bunch when he gets his nerves all riled up," Donna replied while looking towards the two younger girls.

Jody nodded in agreement. She returned her eyes to Claire that was still awaiting an answer to her question. Jody sighed heavily, hoping that they would agree with the decision she had made.

"They need this. They all need to be forced together to realize how stubborn everyone is being. For the sake of Bobby's memory."

Claire went to speak, but stopped herself short and sat back in the chair and nodded.

"She doesn't know about the second wolf in town, and the boys think they are just babysitting her for her own safety. If trouble finds them, I know that they will be fine as a group. Sticking together like a family keeps us all safer than when you are alone," Jody said calmly while shifting her eyes between the three women in front of her.

Donna smiled a toothy grin at them all. "Let's go save our family then huh?"

______________________________________________________________

Sam hadn’t protested too much at Dean’s idea of going to a bar with Y/N. The way that Y/N had acted earlier, she might actually need it. He followed his brother to the car, allowing Dean to be the driver as he gave directions to Y/N’s hotel. He took the lead towards her room and gave a little knock at which Dean rolled his eyes to. Y/N opened up the door, looking like she had just recently showered and changed again. Her face looked like she was shocked and confused as to why they were at her door again.

“Hey Y/N, we were around and figured that you would probably be getting hungry here since you didn’t eat earlier. We were hoping that maybe you would like to go get something with us? Maybe try that start over I was talking about before?” Sam said giving her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster while awaiting her reply.

She gave a deep sigh and said yes. She took a minute within her room to collect her things and followed behind the boys to the car outside. Sam knew Dean would want to drive, so he politely told Y/N that he would take the back. She raised her eyebrows at him while giving him a look up and down. “I’ll fit,” Sam said with a smirk as he opened up her door and let himself into the back door.

After a couple of minutes in a silent car ride, they were all getting out the impala and walking toward another worn down bar on the outskirts of town. It is surprising how many run down bars a town can have, and how his brother always knew where to find them. Then again if you couldn’t find Dean all you would have to do is follow the smell of stale cigarettes and whisky to find him held up in a corner usually.

“I thought you said food?” asked Y/N while looking in Sam’s direction.

Dean spoke with a cocky grin, “Don’t worry they got that here too princess.”

This was going to be interesting. Hopefully neither one stabs someone by the end of the night. Sam rolled his eyes while shaking his head as he followed Y/N and Dean inside, hoping that tonight he would prove that they aren’t who she thinks they are.

Keep reading- part three here

#spnfandom #spn #noplacelikehome #spn fan #spn 13 #dean x sam x reader #part two of many #first time don't kill me

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Progression - Chapter 3

This is good news.

This is good news. Leaning back in his seat, Zayn exhales deeply, already annoyed with the words playing on an endless loop in his mind.

He’d been parked in the plaza a few blocks down from the bakery for almost 2 hours now, mulling over what to make of that morning’s encounter. And what an eventful morning it had been. He’d met with the woman who had reached out to him a couple weeks prior, the woman who claimed to be Dinah’s aunt. Of course he was skeptical, postponing physically getting together as long as he could justify. However, the moment he’d seen her, any ounce of doubt had been erased from his mind. She resembled the woman who had birthed his niece so strongly it would be nearly impossible to refute the familial bond.

All was well as they spoke on different topics, never diving too deep into any one thing. After 30 minutes or so, he received the one question he thought he’d managed to avoid, regarding when she would meet Dinah and Ally. Gingerly, he’d explained that he would have to speak to Ally and Dinah first, and after she’d gotten over the initial shock that neither knew of their meeting, she agreed, as long as he told her by Saturday, since her week in town would be up, and she’d be flying back home on Sunday evening.

While Zayn knew he should be honest with everyone, he was apprehensive about telling Ally about it. There really wasn’t any way going about it that someone wouldn’t get hurt, and he was upset that he had even been put in that position.

Sinking deeper into his stew of self pity, he glances out the window to take his mind off his sorrows. Not even 5 minutes later, out of sheer luck (and the progression of the plot), he sees a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk, arms full of paper food bags.

Rolling down the window a couple inches, he calls out, “Mila!”, not nearly loud enough for a human to hear, but the girl’s head instantly snaps in his direction, and she freezes in place, making the person a few feet behind her shoot her an odd look as they pass.

She smiles at him against the bag clamped between her teeth and bounds across the, thankfully, empty stretch of road. He preemptively opened the passenger door, so she climbs in beside him and allows him to take some bags from her.

“Where were you?”

“I don’t get a hello?”

“No.”

“I met with Dinah’s aunt today.” Zayn is thankful Camila had closed the cardboard box, because it dropped to the floor the instant the words left his mouth. “I know.”

“But Ally said…”

“I thought so too. She lives in California with her husband and three kids.” His laugh is gentle, smile fond as he recalls the pictures of the adorable family. “She’s human, like how Sofi is.”

Camila nods, and they both sit in silence for a beat. “So, how are you gonna tell her?

"Do I really have to?”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t wanna.” He drops his chin onto the steering wheel, and makes a childish whine in the back of his throat.

“We both know you still will, so it’s better you think of how to say it now and save yourself some of the inevitable awkwardness.”

Zayn looks forward, hands gripping the squishy foam of the steering wheel until hard, finger shaped indentations formed. Of course that was easy for her to say, she didn’t have to get Dinah’s hopes up, and crush Ally’s heart.

Before he can smash his face into the steering wheel and potentially trigger the airbag, again, he feels a smaller, and significantly warmer, hand on his own. When he turns his attention back to his passenger, Camila’s holding a plastic cup, that he’s pretty sure she pulled out of thin fucking air, because she didn’t have it coming in, out to him. Peering over the rim, he instantly recognizes the liquid inside as strawberry lemonade, the only non-alcoholic drink worth shit in his eyes.

“I got it in case you were there by the time I got back to work.” There isn’t much need for convincing Zayn to do right, or any at all truly. They’ve never had to talk much on issues like this, both understanding it was a simple as doing it or not, and continuing the conversation would do nothing.

While Zayn is thankful for the gesture, it’s not part of their dynamic for him to respond as accordingly. “You didn’t drink from this, right?”

“You’re joking.” She raises her eyebrows, giving him an unimpressed look.

“Of course not. Why would I ever risk to ingest your inferior werewolf saliva?” The serious expression he’d managed to put on cracks a bit as he finishes his rhetorical question.

“And I can feel my brain cells dying the longer I breath in your second-hand corpse air, but I’m nice enough to not say that out loud.”

“In truth, kindness never was my strong suit.”

“Neither is cleanliness, but I suppose there isn’t much to expect from someone who was born prior to proper cultural cleanliness standards.”

“Like you have room to talk. It’s gonna take me a week of scrubbing to get the wet dog smell out of my seats.”

“If that’s all it takes. Ally has to change the carpet in your room every 6 months because it smells like a funeral parlor.”

By this point there both smiling, staring at each other intently. “And she has to burn everything you and Dinah touch because you stain it with the scent if a thousand slaughtered animals.”

“Yeah, after the full moon. That’s an everyday problem with you and your disgusting blood bags.”

“You and Dinah have a whole damn freezer for raw meat!”

“At least that’s food! You drink blood like a…a..vampire!”

“Nice one. How long you been thinking if that?”

“Shut up. I’m hungry.”

“That’s no excuse, you’re always hungry.”

Staring out into the distance a moment, Camila presses her palms against her thighs before responding. “You know what I should have said?

"Something clever?” Zayn keeps his face emotionless, even as he receives a sharp elbow to the side.

“Shh! Let me say it.” Camila faces him again, clearing her throat. “You have a whole bloody fridge.” She barely makes it though what she considers a strike of comedic genius before breaking down into a bout of howling laughter. “Get it? Bloody? Like blood cause you’re a vampire, and you’re British?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to remove you from my vehicle.”

“That was funny!”

“Sweetheart, you’re real smart and all, but I think you have to re-learn what humour is.”

Affronted, she scoffs audibly and clips in her seatbelt, mentally chalking it up to Zayn’s obvious lack knowledge on what true humor is. “Whatever. I have food for Ariana and Alessia, and it’s gonna get cold if we don’t get a move on.”

“I don’t recall when I said I’d give you a ride.”

“It was implied when you called me over. Plus your shift started 50 minutes ago, and Ally’s gonna be pissed if she knows you were late because you were sitting in a parking lot.”

“I was doing much more that just sitting in a parking lot, if you payed any attention to anything i said earlier.”

“Right, but you were still sitting here a good 15 minutes, and that’s 15 minutes you could have been working.”

“You know, sometimes I worry Ally’s a cult leader, and she’s like manipulating your brain to do her dirty work, cause she couldn’t get Dinah.”

“That was sudden.”

“She’s a super old and powerful witch who only had the desire to care for children and own a bakery. It’s questionable.” This is nowhere near the first time Zayn had hinted toward his displeasure with Ally’s use of her abilities, and Camila really didn’t want to sit through another hour long lecture of all the things she could be doing.

“You’re just cynical.” Rolling his eyes, he starts the car and turns out of the parking lot. “It does sound kind of Hansel and Gretel-esque when you put it that way, I’ll give you that.”

Rather than replying, he smirks and takes a victorious sip of his drink. Thankfully, he wasn’t in that mood either.

…

“Where the fuck were you!” Ariana’s voice hisses when they appear in front of the glass of the front display window. Neither of them have entered yet, but any desire to is gone at the sound of her tone.

Footsteps sound, and soon Dinah and Normani appear from around the corner, both in uniform. They pull up on either side of Ariana, and they all look pissed. Zayn spots Alessia looking over from a table in the corner and pleads to her to intervene with his eyes, but she quickly turns away, pretending to not have seen anything.

He wasn’t that late, so why were they so angry? Holding himself, he turns to meet their glares, and instead finds the fixed on his counterpart rather than himself.

Tilting his head to the side in confusion, he leans towards her and mumbles, “What did you do?”

That’s all it takes for Dinah to fling herself over the display case, completely ignoring the open gate right next to her, and race for the door. Camila is smart enough to know running is not an option, as Dinah has always been the faster of the two, and instead wraps her arms tight around Zayn, mashing their bodies together just in time to feel heavy hands on her shoulders.

Unsurprisingly, this doesn’t deter the older girl, at all. Instead of pulling and risking ripping Zayn’s favorite jacket, something she knows would be expensive as all hell to replace, and her money is for her, not other people, she easily picks both of them up.

“You didn’t think this through very well.” Zayn’s voice is slightly strained as he is carried over the threshold and dropped unceremoniously onto the floor.

“I thought you were the one in trouble. I didn’t even do anything.” Camila mutters from beside him, rubbing her elbow, which she had landed on in an attempt to protect the food, in slight annoyance.

“Didn’t do anything? You skipped out on lunch, and now one of your roommates thinks your an asshole.” Normani closes the gate behind her and Ariana, joining Dinah in front of the pair now sitting up.

“Make that two of your roommates. I thought you were in trouble or something, you unbelievable bitch.” Dinah’s foot collides with her shoulder, enough to hurt, but not bruise. “You just got some damn sandwiches?”

“Ow! I’m sorry, okay?” Camila scoots closer to Zayn, now barely out of Dinah’s leg range, just in case she wants to strike again. “I forgot we had plans.”

“How do you forget something like this? You’ve been whining about meeting her for literal months.”

“I don’t know, I guess I got distracted.” Camila can’t look Dinah in the face, she’s never been good with people yelling. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that again, okay? I was all worried, and shit like that gives you hella wrinkles.” Dinah sighs dramatically and pulls her up by her hand, tugging her into a hug. “How can I be young forever if my baby sister is just disappearing all over the place?”

Ariana and Normani exchange a look, irritation quickly vanishing, before the younger of the two speaks. “What were you distracted by, huh?”

“Work, and then I really wanted a sandwich, so I went and got some.”

Bending forward, Ariana picks up the bag off the floor and carries it to one of the empty tables nearby. “Cool. Now that the tension has diffused a bit, I’m just gonna see what’s in this.”

“Wait, two of those are mine!” Camila calls out, voice muffled by Dinah’s chest, as she tries to wriggle out of her friend’s arms.

“I’m hungry too! I skipped lunch waiting for your confused ass to get back here.”

“You are actually the least helpful person in existence.” Zayn drops into the seat across from Alessia, after having to get off the floor on his own, and walk all the way to the other side of the seating area.

“You never asked for help.”

“I shouldn’t have to. I was an innocent caught in their mess and you just left me.”

“I never heard a please.”

Before Zayn can properly respond, a projectile soars through the air, barely missing his head, but collides with the cup he’d since set in front of him, knocking the contents out over his white shirt. Tensing, he turns to face a struggling Camila and Dinah, but zones in on an embarrassed looking Normani, who is clearly the culprit, wearing only one shoe. “Sorry Zayn.”

“Insufferable vermin, the lot of you.” He stands, frustrated by his stained shirt and Alessia’s resounding giggles, but not angry. “I’m ‘ona start work. Someone’s got to bloody do something round here.”

This seems to snap Dinah back into the fact that other things are happening around her. “Hey, I do stuff. I do all the stuff, and that’s rude for you to say I don’t when these other hoes just-what happened to your shirt?”

Alessia laughs even harder, if that’s even possible, at the look on Zayn’s face before he walks to the back room, presumably to get into uniform and away from the five nuisances he has the misfortune of being stuck working with.

“Looks like it’s past someone’s feeding time.” Dinah quips, quiet enough for only Camila to hear, still leaning her full weight into the girl below her.

“Dinah, get off.” Camila’s now sweaty hands slid against the polished wood, preventing her from gaining any traction. “Food. Want. Now.”

“Jesus, there really is no love, huh Walz?” The blonde teases, but stands anyway, watching as Camila scrambles over to where Ariana sat eating her lunch.

“Dinah Jane, get over here and unlock this so I can clean up the spill before someone slips and breaks their neck.” Normani calls impatiently from beside the supply closet.

“Fine.” Dinah groans, stomping over to her friend, but pausing when she sees the vast, dripping pool of quickly melting blue slushee. Naturally, she places the blame on the closest person to the mess, Alessia. “What the hell did you do?”

“Yeah, I did this.” She only rolls her eyes and steps carefully over the icy swamp that had formed around her feet, going over to see if Camila and Ariana have any food left.

Dinah turns back to Normani, more lost than ever. She takes the key loosely grasped in Dinah’ hand and goes to unlock the door, shaking her head as she speaks. “Nothing gets past you.”

…

It’s nearly 6, Normani and Camila having been home for about 3 hours, as Dinah stayed for her shift at the bakery. Normani had texted Lauren, saying they found Camila, and they would meet each other whenever she came home. While it wasn’t surprising she didn’t get a response when the message was clearly read over an hour before, it bothered her. What the hell was she doing that she could read the message but not reply? Don’t open your messages if you aren’t going to answer someone. Then the next time they’d talk, she’d say she didn’t know whatever the message was. It was one of the more annoying things Lauren did, mostly because it was on purpose.

Currently, Normani was sprawled out across the couch, talking to Camila, who was too wrapped up in the video game she was playing to care, about some end of summer party a guy two floors down was planning.

“Come on, Mila. Say something aside from, 'yeah’."

"Uh huh.”

“Oh my God, you’re not even trying!” The older girl jerks up, her head, which was previously in Camila’s lap, blocking the view of the television.

“Mani, stop! I’m trying to concentrate.”

Sitting up completely, Normani places her knees on either side of Camila’s legs and presses the Cuban’s cheeks together in exasperation. “Pay attention to me.”

“No! You killed me.” She exhales dramatically, pushing Normani off her and onto the other side of the couch. “I was so close to the next checkpoint.”

“You’re the worst, I miss Dinah.”

“I miss Dinah too if it means I don’t have to put up with you.”

Normani rolls over onto her back to glare at the girl she’s beginning to question asking to move in with her. “Now that your stupid game is done, can I finish what I was saying?”

“No.”

“So anyway, apparently all three of them live together. They’re juniors, but I think they transferred, because I’ve never seen them before and they don’t know the area.” Normani goes on, stretching her legs out across Camila’s lap and ignoring that her rhetorical question had received any response at all.

It doesn’t take much for Camila to zone out. Normani’s barely five minutes into rambling about how cute the unnamed boys are, and the potential for her to 'give them a tour’, because she takes notice of her counterpart staring sadly at the controller on the couch beside her.

Normani nudges the girl’s stomach with her knee. “Stop pouting. You can always play it again.”

“I’m not.”

“What’s wrong with you, huh?”

“Nothing. I’m tired.” Camila rubs her eyes and shifts under the weight on her thighs. “Do I have to wait up for Lauren?”

“It’s not even 7 o'clock yet.”

“So? I’ve been awake since 2. I wanna go to sleep.” Camila mumbles, not realizing her mistake until Normani responds.

“Was it another nightmare?"

"What? No. I just wasn’t tired really. Apparently I did most of my sleeping before we got into bed last night.” Camila doesn’t like lying, especially not to someone like Normani, who can crack her in one properly placed look, but she can’t afford to have Ally worrying about her anymore than she already does.

“Yeah, I had to drag your and Dinah’s half-asleep, sorry asses to bed on my own.” It’s not that Normani doesn’t trust Camila, more that she knows better than to trust her when it comes to certain subjects. She decides to postpone the line of questioning her brain was planning because the nightmares are normal around the full moon. Dinah gets them too, but at least she tells people what hers are about.

“We could have just stayed on the couch.”

“And risked Dinah staining it with her chronic leaking face? Hell no.”

“Yet you always choose to cuddle with her.”

“I would choose you, but if I don’t fall asleep first, I never will.” Her tone is teasing, but the sentiment is based in fact.

“Shut up. Everyone can’t do everything as gracefully as you.”

“I’m a lucky one.” Normani lowers her legs back to the floor, stretching her arms above her head as she turns into a seated position. Reaching an arm over Camila, she grabs the controller and starts pushing random buttons to try to remember how to work one. “Now go sleep. If you’re still awake when Lauren gets here, you have to meet her then.”

“Okay, just don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

“I’m supposed to be telling you that.”

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #angst drama #humour #scifi supernatural fantasy #submission #Progression

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nanamismoonchild · 7 years

Text

Chapter 12- The Forgotten

Summary: The hologram begins to pixelate, “ I miss you, my sweet daughter. Make me proud…” and disappears. My father was gone again, but only in vision, not in thought. “ I miss you too, Dad. And I will make you proud. I’ll set things right. ”

Words: 3,002

Warning: Suggestive smut, angst, fluff

A/N: I am so sorry for the wait. I didn’t exactly know how the chapter was going to run until one magical morning I was inspired. Remember that my favorite thing is feedback. :D ENJOY~

I wait for a few moments before pulling the tiny chest towards me. It was time to learn some answers, and, hopefully, this box holds some wisdom. I don’t see a key inserter nor do I see any latches around it. How did my dad expect me to open this? He didn’t exactly leave a manual.

“Really Dad?” I sigh in frustration.

The box’s top is thrown open, “Voice activated. Presenting King Seung Jao to Princess Y/N. ”

Weird, but cool. Wouldn’t it have been easier to give me a hidden key necklace? I guess not.

A hologram of my father floats above the box. He looks younger than when I last saw him. He is sitting a chair in a chair.

“ Y/N?”

“Dad?” I start to cry. " Dad… Is that really you?“

He nods and chuckles,” Hell gets a great connection. “

“Hell?” Not that surprising.

“No. I’m resting peacefully in Koato,” He must’ve saw my face scrunch up in confusion because he added, “ I’ll talk about that in a second. Right now I need to tell you what’s happening. You might want to get comfortable.”

I shifted the pillows that Taehyung had brought. I made it so that I could lie back and still see Dad without craning my head. “I’m good. ”

“Great. Now I will explain why you have to open this box in the first place…”

There was a time when Hendum was the perfect sanctuary for where supernaturals of all kind could rest in peace.

Humans had always tried to kill and would seek out the resting place. Witches were killed in tremendous numbers, demons were exorcised, Sirens were captured and sold to the highest bidder, the list of ungodly methods the humans used could go on. They needed a break from constantly hiding from danger everyday. The Supernaturals proposed an idea to create a world of their own. A world hidden from any human being. Hendum was perfect for their dream. It took many years before their kingdom was built to accommodate the well being of every species. It took another year to practice the spell to cover Hendum.

It didn’t, however, take long to figure out the government they would strive under. A monarchy mixed democracy was influenced and soon the Queen and King were chosen. A happy couple of Werewolves were candidates , since they were born leaders. The couple led with vigilance keeping a certain level of extraordinary peace within the hidden world. After a few years the Royals conceived a child. Their energy was dwindling quickly as their focus was on their new born and their duties. A servant by the name of Tyran Young suggested creating another Congress.The exhausted wolves readily agreed to the organization and made Tyran the head of the Council. Tyran was young, but he had an intelligent mind set. He knew who to trust and who not to trust. He handpicked citizens with a cautious eye. The Council was formed and soon the Royals could focus solely on their pup. On the werewolf`s 17th birthday, he gained his parent’s thrown. He took over some of the Council’s work, and his decisions showed his potential as a righteous King. His heats were uncontrollable, and made him dangerous during those times. Omegas were brought in from every possible pack. He declined every single one, on the pretense that he didn’t feel the connection with them. A Witch who had been a servant at the time was escorting yet another wolf out of his chambers, when he stopped her. “Excuse me,” he called out, “ Madame, may I have your name?” The witch turned, surprised written on her face, “ It is Isbel, my King. ” “Isbel,” He tested the sound, “ How pretty for a beautiful woman as yourself. Please call me, Ziro. Seung Ziro is my full name. No honorific from you. ” She nodded swiftly, “ Of course, my ki-Ziro. It is an honour to have your opinion of me. ” Ziro hissed at the sound of his name coming from her mouth, “ Please dismiss that woman and come back. “

Isabel bows and hurriedly takes the woman to the exit, not wanting to leave the King waiting long. She’s back within the minute. She hesitates at the door, but before she could leave, Ziro opens the door.

“You know about my problem correct?” He let her walk in.

“Of course, Ziro, ” She says, “ You’re in heat. ”

Isbel knew next to nothing about a werewolf’s heat. She only knew that he needed a wife sooner rather than later. She didn’t know that heat came during mating season- where young alphas met their omegas and breeded.

She also didn’t know that the horny king had chosen her as his mate.

“Good, because you’re going to help me, ” He slowly stalked around her, noting the slick curve of her ass protuding through the tiny outfit servants were made to wear. His alpha wanted to take her then, but he calmed it- he needed to take his time.

“What do you mean?” Isbel inquired feeling nervous with the King’s examination.

“I’m sure you know, sweetheart, ” He stops in front of her. His eyes trail a hot line down her body. Her perky full breasts were favorite. She was curvy in the right areas. He travelled back to her face. Her eyes were green and her skin was fair; her lips were pink and parted. “Let me kiss you,” Without waiting for an answer, he leans down and kisses her. It was a slow and steady kiss that turned into a heated tongue twisting party.

His beast was still trying to shake free, and even more so when he smelled Isbel’s own desire dripping from her core. Ziro reluctantly lets go of her lips and roughly demands her to take off her clothes and sit on the bed.

Isbel wavers the pros and cons of having an affair with the King. It only took a second she quickly took off her uniform. The dresses were usually tight so many of then servants never wore undergarments that included Isbel. She hopped onto the bed, lying on her back with her legs spread open, presenting herself.

Ziro gasps at the view in front of him and his dick pressed against his pants. Isbel was covered in her own heat and he wanted to wrap himself in it. He climbs on the bed until his hovering over her. She glimpses the predatory look in his eyes and the bulge that was ready to be set free. The young witch had never been one to moan but the sight had her voicing her needs.

“My King,” she whines forgetting his request, “Please breed me.” She had no idea where this was coming from, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted this- she needed this. Ziro smiles seductively, and rips off his gown in one tear,“ As you wish, my Queen. ”

His heat lasted for three more days and during that time Isbel stayed in his chambersn. The other servants searched for her until they delivered Ziro’s meal. The servants were dumbfounded, but soon they were overjoyed that one of their own had been deemed as the Queen of Hendum. Her daughter, Noel, became the castle’s Manipulator.

A few months later and the King was officially married to his mate. The people of Hendum was struck with astonishment; they only the witch because of the strength of her spells and but because of her pregnancy with the future prince.

Eight months later and the queen was ready to bear her child. The servants were running the castles length to prepare. Ziro held his wife’s hand, nervous for her and the baby.

Hybrids weren’t common, yet weren’t rare neither. The doctor presumed the baby would be healthy but her warning was clear. No more had ever mixed a witch and werewolf and the implications were to come. Ziro and Isbel needed to be prepared.

The baby was named Seung Jao. He grew as Hendum grew as well. In fact, the human world grew. New technology the humans created found its way into hidden world’s kingdom.

On Jao’s 17th birthday, the implications still hadn’t shown. Instead he felt stronger, powerful, and smarter and yet he only wanted to be peaceful. He didn’t want to take over the world like some of his peers wanted. He went to his parents after partying, wanting to share his feelings.

His father simply smiled, “ Well that’s good news. At least nothing disastrous happened. Your mother has your birthday gift. ” He nods to his wife who flicks her hand.

A book appears and floats towards Jao, “What’s this?”

“A book,” Isbel Sasses, giggling. She receives a smack on the ass from Ziro. She rolls her eyes, “ It’s am ancient book about hybrids. Especially special hybrids like yourself who were bred from powerful species like your father and I. ”

Jao reads the title of the book, “The Forgotten?”

She nods, “ Hybrids have always had big dreams. However theirndreams were always forgotten. Something always happened…”

A burst of wind signals that the castle doors had opened. The Council led by the son of Tyran, Costor, marched up to the Royal family. Costor was one of the few who resented hybrids. He and his father were very different people. He sneers at Jao who only shrugs and takes a seat next to his mother.

“May I have a word with you, sire?”

Ziro sighs, “Speak. ”

“The council have been thinking and we have come to an agreement that hybrid marriages are an outrage. We need full-blooded werewolves to run our Kingdom not these wretched-”

Isbel speaks up, “Please leave my home. You will not talk as if my son isn’t in this very room. ”

Costor glares at the witch, “ I wasn’t talking to you. You don’t make the decisions-”

“ But I do,” Ziro stands and stalks towards Costor who flinches with each step. “ Please leave like my wife said. Or you will learn what it’s like to anger a witch and werewolf. ”

Costor went red in the face, “ This is not over!” He led his team of untrustables put of the castle.

“ What blasphemy! Do he really think he could talk to you like that? Is he going to try to come back?” Isbel asks worried for her son and daughter, Noel.

Ziro kisses his wife, calming her down, “ He’s going to try but we’re going to spruce up our security. And I know just the people. ”

“Who?” Jao asks.

“The Bangtan Pack. They recently just had a son…”

The King and Queen weren’t the only targets however. Many of the people had married another species, not quite as powerful, but their offspring had obviously dominated their inherited abilities. Each and every one of them could take down a small army.

But as Isbel said only “special” hybrids like Jao who came from powerful supernatural like , werewolves, vampires, witches, and demons, were the only ones to get a controlled aura. The others were not so much as villains but they did cause ruckus. They had grouped together to form an alliance of sorts, something the Prince didn’t partake in.

Costor feared that the alliance was plotting against the kingdom while they were only plotting pranks on other citizens. His father had accidentally been hit by one of their pranks and was injured after one of the hybrids tried her best to pull him away from the aftermath. Costor refused to listen to his Father’s side of the story saying that it was his fault and she tried her best.

The same girl had been found dead in her home along with her family the next day. Evidence pointed toward Costor ( technology allowed fingerprints to be examined), but his loyal companions from the Council had cleared his name. The young Council member had planted in their minds that hybrids are soulless vile creatures that shouldn’t walk this earth.

Meanwhile, Seung Jao had found his Queen. A demon by the name of Maria. He had met her incidentally through his sister, who was the Castle’s Manipulator, Noel.

Maria had been delivering Noel’s lunch when Jao had been running. They both had not been looking where they were going and soon Noel’s lunch was covering them.

“Oh, I’m sorry. ” Her voice was sweet and quiet and he fell in love with it instantly.

“It’s fine,” he smiled at her, picking out a marshmallow from her hair.

Jao and Marie were ready to swear an oath a year later. Ziro and Isbel had mysteriously vanished and there was little evidence to where they went. It had left Hendum in confusion, and Jao had npot been able to accept the throne. Had it not been for Marie, Jao would have disappeared along with his father and mother.

She had been talking to Noel about him, when Noel sensed a turn in her thoughts. It was another voice in Marie.

“Marie? Are you, by any chance, pregnant?”

Marie hesitated before answering, “Yes, but don’t tell Jao yet. I want to tell him myself. It might lift him. ”

Later that night, Marie told the depressed king the news.

“We are having a baby!” She yelled in excitement, jumping onto his lap.

Jao leaned his hand near her neck and sniffed, “You’re right!” The smile was slow but it grew wider with passing second.

“I know that couples usually wait to name their child, but let’s name ours now,” She hoped he would. It would make the anticipation even more thrilling.

“I already had a name for our baby. Y/N? How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds perfect,” She kissed him.

Nine years later, and little Y/N was growing up starting school with the rest of the children. Her mother and father had walked her to the elementary; Marie was about to burst into tears to see her small timid daughter enter the fifth year classroom. Little Y/N was beyond nervous and hyper to not see her father’s nod towards the teacher who opened a makeshift door that was the entrance to the Human land.

She would never see her father again, she wouldn’t remember Hendum.

“And that’s exactly what I wanted, Y/N. But, unfortunately, what hybrids want don’t last long. Your aunt went with you to the human world with a Council member who wanted nothing to do with Costor’s plot. They took care of you until they had children of their own. Noel brought you to the house that you stayed in. She told you the news of my death and ‘your mother’s’. It was saddening for your mother and I to see you crying and not be able to comfort you,” He pauses.

“Dad, it’s OK. You tried your best-”

“ My best wasn’t enough to keep the Council away from you. They had always been there. They sneaked their way into the castle and then they sneaked their way into the school. Your mother had to get Bangtan to get you; they were the only pack in Hendum she could trust. I sent you to the Humans to keep you alive and safe and you blended in so well…”

“Dad. It obviously worked if they didn’t kill me as soon as they knew who I was. ”

“ True,” He whispers, “After you were sent off, the Council tried to kill me and your mother. Your mother because she agreed to carry a hybrid in her belly. And me because I am a hybrid. Noel was my mother’s child from another man. But I had already told Marie to use her power to send her into her safe world. When she was gone, I took one of the Demons who was to be executed, and forged her death ending my own.

” I crafted the box after I found my place, with my father and mother, in Koato, a place like Purgatory except nicer, “ He laughs. ” I made it so that the box would alert me to when you were ready to view. I placed The Forgotten inside so you would be able to read it as I did on my 17th birthday. When I read this, I felt the determination of every hybrid to make their dream come true. They all had different plans. My dream was to build my future with my wife and child. Unfortunately, that dream crashed and burned with me at the end of a canyon. The book leads you to a perfect beginning but it doesn’t give you a hint to your ending.

“ I could only hope it’s the opposite for you. You are those forgotten dreams. The descendant of two powerful hybrid marriages. You are the voice of those who were brainwashed into hatred. ”

I nod. My father’s word were hitting home, and I didn’t want to break it.

“ Sweetheart, this is my last wish before I have to leave. Take back your rightful crown, and restore Hendum to its peaceful setting. I love you, and I wish I was there with you and your mother. But I have no regrets, I saved my family if only for a little while. And even if you didn’t see me, I watched you grow. I didn’t miss your first day of high school three years ago, and I always comforting you when you thought you were alone, ” He smiles, tears forming in his eyes.

I wipe my eyes to clear the blurriness. He had been there with me. Why didn’t I notice?

The hologram begins to pixelated, “ I miss you, my sweet daughter. Make me proud…” and disappears.

My father was gone again, but only in vision, not in thought. “ I miss you too, Dad. And I will make you proud. I’ll set things right. ”

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sparklywitchmoment · 8 years

Text

Hell and Silence || Chapter Five

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Swearing, Innuendo, Heavy Makeout Sesh

Word Count: 6.369

A/N: CHAPTER FIVE!! YAAAAYYYY MORE DEREK VANESSA KISSES!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYYYY!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

CHAPTER FIVE

DEREK

Vanessa was still pretty out of it by the time I got her home, but at least she was able to form coherent sentences. When I pulled up to the house, there was a familiar police car sitting in the driveway, meaning the sheriff was home, and the living room light illuminating through the window meant he was probably up and waiting for his kids. I groaned, rolling my eyes as I picked Vanessa up from where I laid her in the backseat, starting to carry her to the house.

“Derek…” Her voice rang in my ears, soft and smooth- like silk. I felt one of her hands snake around to my face, thumb rubbing circles on my cheek. “Why don’t you shave? Like, ever?” She questioned, now tugging at the little bits of scruff on my face. I just shook my head, nudging her hand away.

“Stop prodding me.” I grunted, finally reaching the porch and ringing the doorbell.

“But you’re so fluffy…” She reached her hand back to my cheek, once again tugging at my scruff, still intently pulling as her father opened the front door. It probably wasn’t the best thing that the first time he’s seen me- a once suspected murderer- in two years is with his drunk daughter in my arms.

“What the- do I even want to know?” I stepped into the house, Vanessa’s eyes still locked on my face, completely ignoring her father.

“She was poisoned.”

“By what, alcohol?” The sheriff shut the door behind me, crossing his arms and giving me the same look as he did when he interrogated me for my various alleged crimes.

“Wolfsbane-” I looked down at Vanessa whose thumb was no running gentle strokes across my cheekbone. “And maybe a little bit of alcohol.”

The sheriff sighed, lifting his hand to rub his temple. “Whatever… Thanks for getting her home safe- even though she wasn’t respecting the police issued curfew.” He scowled down at his daughter, even if she wasn’t lucid enough to notice it. “Do you know where Stiles is?”

“Giving the others a ride home- Do you uh, want to take her, or…” I started to say, carefully holding Vanessa out to her father, but he shook his head.

“No, no- My strength isn’t what it used to be. I can’t carry her up those stairs. Would you mind bringing her up to her room?”

“Not at all.” I pressed my lips together as the sheriff gave me a quick smile and turned away, heading back towards the kitchen. I looked down at Vanessa who was still conscious, thankfully, but swinging her legs in my arms which made it hard to keep a good hold on her. Slowly, I made my way up the stairs, turning the corner into Vanessa’s room.

Her bedroom is different than I thought it would be. Just looking at her I thought It would be all grungy, dark and... neutral? Instead, I was met by bright colored paint, a bold zebra striped comforter, walls covered in hundreds of pictures of the pack- and the scent of Isaac filling nearly every corner. I set Vanessa down on her bed gently, trying to shake off her hands clinging to my shirt.

“Vanessa, you’ve gotta let me go…” I groaned, still trying to pry her hands off me but she wasn’t budging.

“But I don’t want to let you go…” She whispered into my ear, slowly using her grasp to lift herself onto her knees. Even kneeling on her bed she wasn’t eye level with me- I still had to look down, though I wish I hadn’t. As soon as I did, my eyes met with hers and I was in a trance. The amber irises were glowing under the dim light from out in the hallway, even though I could hardly see them as she looked up from under her eyelashes.

“Derek,” Vanessa whispered, hand reaching up to grasp the silver metallic necklace resting on her chest, popping it off and into her grasp. Her free hand wrapped itself around my wrist, bringing my hand out in front of her as she dropped the necklace into it. “I need you to hold onto this. It’s my mom’s and I don’t want to lose it- keep it safe ‘till I’m sober.” She started to say seriously, but broke out into a fit of giggles by the end of her sentence.

“Vanessa, you’re not going to lose it-”

“Shh!” She hissed, clapping her hand over my mouth, “You don’t know my life. Take it, Sourwolf.”

As she peeled her hand off my face, I shot her a quick smile and closed my hand around her necklace, shoving it into the pocket of my jeans.

“Fine. Will you let me go now?” I couldn’t keep myself from laughing, watching her swing around, only supported by her arms latched around my neck. Her head was hung back, smile bright across her face- not a care in the world.

“No, never. You’re too pretty to let ever out of my sight,” The devious grin she had on only widened as she pulled herself up to be level with me. As soon as she locked her eyes with mine, I could see that smile slowly start to disappear, eyes softening into something… different. “I’m dangerously tempted to kiss you right now,” She hummed, moving her hands from where she was holding my shirt, gliding over my shoulders and hooking her arms behind my neck. “But maybe it’s just the booze…” Vanessa continued to inch her face closer to mine, until I could feel the presence of her lips ghosting me- I couldn’t take it anymore. My mind went on autopilot, making me almost totally unaware of the moves I was going to make. My hands snaked around her waist, pulling her body flush against me as I pressed my lips to hers. She kissed me back instantly, fingers finding their way into my hair and tugging at the small strands. Slowly, I tipped my body down so she was laying back on her bed, me resting gently on top of her. I rolled my hips against hers, causing her to release a low moan into my mouth, raking one of her hands down my back. I’d just started to move my hands up the little skirt she was wearing when I snapped myself back to reality.

She’s drunk. She’s not lucid. She has no idea what she’s doing.

This is wrong.

“Derek?” Vanessa said, pulling herself away from me, looking up into my eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

I pushed myself off the bed, now hovering over Vanessa who looked dazed and confused coming up from the kiss. Every fiber in my body told me to ignore my morality and just throw myself back on top of her, so I’m glad my will power is as strong as it is.

“You… You’re drunk- you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who’s going to be back soon and I can’t be here when he is. This is wrong…” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to keep my eyes off the tight clothes clinging to her body. “I need to go.”

Without another word, I walked out Vanessa’s bedroom door, trying not to pay attention to her words trailing behind me.

“Derek, wait-” She said, reaching for my hand but I was already out of her grasp. I felt as though my heart sank a little bit with each step I took away from her, but I can’t stay. I can’t hurt Isaac like that, I can’t take advantage of her- it’s not right. Before I drove away, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, the screen automatically illuminating.

4 missed calls- like that surprises me.

VANESSA

Last night is mostly a blur of colorful flashing lights, loud noises, and regret. I’m not sure exactly what I regret, but I know it’s something; I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. I looked over and saw Isaac lying next to me, drool hanging out the side of his mouth. Did I sleep with Isaac? Is that what I regret? No, probably not; He’d be “too afraid to hurt me,” even if he’s drunk, plus we’re both still almost fully clothed- aside from Isaac who stripped down to his boxers, while keeping on his jean jacket and boots. I smiled down at him, shaking my head as I slid out of my spot in bed- the drunk teenage mind is a curious thing.

One of the things being a werewolf comes in handy for- hangovers. Getting blackout drunk and waking up with next to no hangover aside from a small, lingering headache is a damn near miracle. I walked down stairs, sun shining through the open windows in the kitchen and living room feeling quite refreshed. A night of binge drinking is just what I needed, apparently. There was already a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, presumably from my dad who I had subconsciously heard leave hours ago. I poured myself a cup, hearing footsteps come out of my room and down the stairs. Soon Isaac turned the corner coming into view, smile plastered across his face. I’m in too good of a mood to even have a second thought when he wraps his long arm around my waist, pressing his lips gently to my neck.

“Good morning, lovely.” He whispered to me, grabbing his own mug off the rack on the counter and filling it with coffee.

“Magic werewolf reverse hangover for you too?” I took a sip out of my cup, Isaac throwing his head back and letting out a low laughter. I used to love that laughter, but now… it’s just like any other laugh. I tried to keep the small smile on but my heart felt like it was cracking in half.

“Oh yeah… I feel amazing.” Isaac said, his soft words feeling like small daggers in my chest. “And the best part is… No one died.”

“Think again, wolfie.” Stiles voice came from behind me, my brother charging into the kitchen, snatching my coffee out of my hands. Honestly, I have no idea how Stiles manages to sneak up on the two of us like that- he’s like a fox. I almost put up a fight, but that would have wasted time and i’m kind of eager to hear what he has to say. “While you two were getting shit faced drunk, another body dropped. Lydia found a body down at the Silos this morning- dad’s down there now.”

“Holy shit, is she okay?”

Ever since Lydia had activated her banshee powers, she just found body after body. I could tell that each one she found took a little toll on her- not so much that it’s noticeable, but just enough for Stiles and I to exchange a glance about it.

“She seemed calm over the phone given the circumstances, but I can never be sure with her...” Stiles tried to say very nonchalantly, his voice trailing off at the end as he buried his face in the coffee mug. I just rolled my eyes. “Just get dressed and get to the car- we’re all meeting at Derek’s.”

Once Isaac and I were both dressed, I looked in the mirror to run a brush through my hair and noticed my necklace was missing from it’s normal spot hung around my neck. I looked around my bathroom counter for it, peeking my head into my room to check my desk. That necklace is hardly even taken off of me… Where the hell could I have put it?

“Isaac, have you seen my necklace?” I called out, Isaac rushing into the bathroom, fully dressed and ready to go.

“No, baby- you probably just put it down somewhere last night. Come on, you look beautiful, and we’re already late. Let’s go!” He grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the bathroom and down the hall. He and Stiles were talking about what Stiles heard over the dispatch for the entire car ride, but I could only think and quite frankly- stress- about one thing:

Where could I have put my necklace?

Seeing the giant apartment building, it’s clear that Derek’s upgraded his living space from the rackety charred house in the woods to something much nicer. Just the lobby of this building is nicer than what I’m used to thinking about when I hear that the pack’s meeting at Derek’s. Derek’s place is on one of the top floors and the entire elevator ride up, Isaac had his arm wrapped around my waist, pulled close to him. Now that we were in a more gloomy environment, my bubbly mood from this morning had practically disappeared and I was back to feeling disgust towards my boyfriend- horray!

Isaac knocked on the massive sliding door of Derek’s apartment- or “Loft” as Stiles has corrected me about a number of times. Soon after he knocked, the door was slid open, revealing a rather distraught Lydia on the other side of it. Stiles was the first to rush her into his arms, seeing as I had Isaac’s grasp to struggle out of before I could get to her side. When I got there, she was already sobbing into my brother’s shoulder. Stiles, unsure of what to do, slowly slid his hands through Lydia’s hair and I could hear him whispering small comforts to her. God, he loves her so much- I wish Lydia would just get her head out of her ass and see it for once.

I looked deeper into the loft and saw Scott, Allison, Boyd and Derek standing around a table in front of a giant wall of windows. The loft is very spacious- a little kitchen in the corner, a couch, a gorgeous spiral staircase and a few doors leading god-knows-where. Not too shabby for someone who spent years in the charred remains of his childhood home.

“Where’s Erica?” Isaac asked, coming up behind me and lacing his fingers with mine. I flinched a little as his fingertips grazed the surface of my palm.

Boyd huffed, crossing his arms. “Uh, still sleeping as far as I know. I would wake her up, but I’d like to live long enough to graduate.”

Honestly, I was thankful that Erica wasn’t here. It would just mean I’d have to put up with her snarky comments, rude remarks and just all around bitchiness. It sort of amused me that Boyd- massive, muscular, werewolf Boyd- was so scared of a tiny blonde like Erica; though I guess she does tend to have that effect on people.

“Wise choice.” Isaac laughed, pulling me towards the table, Lydia and Stiles following us, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Some girls may be discouraged by their brother getting handsy with one of their best friends- but not these two. There has been sexual tension between Lydia and Stiles since the three of us were nine years old; that’s how you know it’s meant to be. Isaac and I, however…

As we approached the table, I saw Derek avert his eyes away from me, looking anywhere but in our general direction. I wanted to say something- to grab him, have him hold me in my arms, kiss me-

“Babe, are you alright?” Isaac’s voice broke me out of my little daydream, making me snap my head back to reality where Derek was avoiding the mere sight of me. “Your heartbeat sped up.”

I shot him a quick smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, now that the majority of us are here…” Stiles began, Lydia’s arm still looped around his, head against his shoulder- no one dared say anything about it. “We can discuss.”

“Discuss what? It’s not like we have much information.” Boyd said, crossing his arms, his tall shadow casting over Stiles face making him let out a girlish yelp. Lydia, not impressed, inched her head of my brothers shoulder.

“You heard stuff over the dispatch, right Stiles?” I butted in, trying to save him from his utter terror. Stiles just nodded, looking down in effort to keep his eyes off Boyd’s intimidating stance.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, patrol found a girl around the Silos this morning. They mentioned that she had the same little, uh… deadly feature Lacy Moore did.”

“Well, at least now we know this thing wants more than one victim…” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Do they know who it is yet? The victim, I mean...” Allison asked, concern coating her features. Scott looked over at her, reaching not-so-discreetly under the table and grabbing her hand.

“No specifics yet, but um… She was wearing a BHHS cheerleading uniform.”

The entire group went silent for a moment, our hearts collectively dropping, knowing that this meant whatever we were dealing with killed a kid. God, it’s going be rough at school once the name is released.

“So what’re we going to do?” Allison asked, breaking the silence.

“Deaton doesn’t have anything yet, but he said he’d call me if anything in his files stuck out.” Scott added, stepping closer to the table. I noticed Derek take a step closer, straightening his spine and raises his shoulders.

“For now, just keep an eye out- and yell ‘fire’ if you see anything suspicious. Vin, I think you and I should head to the crime scene.” Stiles started to roll up the documents her brought for Derek to look over, handing them to him.

“Why you two? Shouldn’t I go? It could still be dangerous, and you’re both human.” Derek said, and everyone froze after hearing his last few words. My heart panged in my chest, blood boiling. Not catching what he said at first, Derek’s realization came much later. “Shit, sorry- I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s fine.” I spat out, glaring at Derek and pulling my hand away from Isaac’s, grabbing my brother’s. “It’s because we’re his kids- it’s least conspicuous. Let’s go, Stiles.”

Stiles whispered a not-so-quiet sorry to Derek just as I dragged him out of the loft and out of the building.

I groaned as the Jeep bounced coming into a park, hitting my head against the back of the seat. “Piece of shit car…”

“Hey!” Stiles yelled, his loud voice echoing off the interior walls of the car. “Shut up, you’ll offend him.”

I waved my hands in surrender, gently patting the dashboard of the car, making sure to look my brother right in the eye as I did so.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry Roscoe. What was I thinking offending you like that? I forgot that just because you’re a car doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings too.”

Stiles scoffed, grabbing the greasy paper bag filled with fast food as he pulled himself out of the car. “Knock it now, but one day you’ll feel the lustful pull of good ol’ Roscoe.” He rubbed the powder-blue hood of his precious Jeep, and I’m pretty sure I heard him whisper something under his breath.

“The only lustful pull I’ll ever feel for that hunk of crap is if I’m screwing someone in the backseat.” I said, laughing to myself but Stiles was having none of it. He froze where he was walking, giving me a glare.

“If you ever do that, I swear to god Vin, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill your children- your grandchildren. I’ll kill everyone.”

I threw my hands up in the air, laughter only growing the more I looked at Stiles completely serious face. We continued to walk down the dirt road to the Silos, walking right past the couple local news reporters and under the police tape. A few deputies gave us dirty looks, but none of them tried to stop us. Stiles and I looked around, trying to find the familiar silhouette of our father somewhere drowned in the rest of the brown and khaki colored uniforms. It took a little bit of searching, but eventually we found him crouched over a little stain of blood on the ground.

“Heya Pops.” My voice echoed a little bit inside the Silo, making my father jump.

“Jesus, Vin- you two can’t sneak up on me when I’m investigating a murder sight. It’s like you’re trying to give me a heart attack.” He said, standing up and brushing the dirt off his knees.

“Speaking of heart attack…” Stiles held out the bag of fast food, my dad immediately snatching it from his hands. He pried the bag open, shoving a fist full of onion rings into his mouth. Stiles and I shared a glance for a second, laughing to each other. We almost never let my dad have greasy foods because you know- we want him alive and healthy- so when he does get them, it looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.

“God, I know I shouldn’t have an appetite, considering the dead body and all, but how can I not...” He took another handful of onion rings, devouring them like a bottomless pit.

Stiles clapped his hands together, grabbing our fathers attention. “Oh right! There was another murder, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah, we heard that it’s almost identical to Lacy Moore’s case.” I said, crossing my arms. My dad just groaned, rolling his eyes at us.

“There’s always a catch with you two being nice to me, isn’t there?”

“No, never.” Stiles said, his voice becoming high pitched as he made quite large hand gestures for such a simple statement.

I rolled my eyes, hitting his arm. “Well, just this time.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the reporters,” He said, tossing another onion ring in his mouth. “You’ll find out when the official autopsy is released by the coroner's office. Until then, I can’t say anything- even if you are my kids.”

“But- hey dad!” Stiles called after him as he started to walk away, chasing after him and almost tripping over his own feet in the process. I stood behind him, my arms still crossed.

“Come on, Pops-” I said, grabbing my brother before he actually did fall face first onto the concrete. “We’re the protectors of Beacon Hills! We’ve got to know what we’re dealing with here so we can stop it.”

He turned around, pointing his finger at us, eyebrows furrowed angrily. “No, I’m the protector of Beacon Hills. You-” He directed his words to me. “You’re a teenage werewolf and you’re just a spaz, Stiles!” He started to walk away before yelling a few last dreadful words to us. “I’ll see you two at home! Don’t think I forgot about you two staying out past police issued curfew last night!”

We both groaned, hanging our heads. I hoped he wasn’t awake when we got back, but I guess getting blackout drunk meant I was probably louder than usual. Great, now I’ve got a supernatural murderer and my dad to worry about. At least he didn’t notice my mom’s necklace missing from around my neck.

DEREK

“Are the children gone?” Peter’s voice rang through my ears as he slowly inched his way down the spiraling staircase. After Stiles and Vanessa left, the rest of the pack slowly thinned out of the loft- all except for Scott. He stuck around to fill me in one what’s happened since I’ve been gone and he brought up the idea of the two of us co-alphaing the pack if I stuck around. It seemed like such an obscure topic, co-alphaing- but technically Scott adopted my pack so it could possibly work.

“Yes Peter, they’re gone.” I said, Peter then trotting down the stairs, jumping down from the last few like a child. I rolled my eyes, looking back down at the files Stiles had left. “You know they’re not going to kill you on sight, right?”

He sat down across the table from me, reaching for a file and sliding it towards himself. “Speak for yourself- the Argent girl would start shooting arrows if she so much as sensed my presence.”

“Serves you right for using her best friend to resurrect your charred corpse.” I said with a laugh, but Peter just scowled.

“It’s been years since I did that- can we all just let it go?” I let out another loud laugh, Peter’s genuine aggravation amusing me. “Anyways, how was the party last night?”

“Loud,” I sighed. “And the kegs were laced with wolfsbane, so I’m guessing whoever is behind the murders knows about the pack. Oh, and I had to bring Vanessa- who was barely lucid, by the way- back home afterword.”

There was a moment of silence before Peter said, “You slept with her, right?”

I nearly choked on my tongue. “What? No! God, why the hell-”

“I would have.” He continued to speak, tone unchanged. “She may be a Stilinski, but damn if that body was anywhere near naked in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Does he even hear the words coming out of his mouth? Does he even realize how much of a sleaze he is?

“Christ, Peter! She’s a kid- the sheriff’s daughter. Just because you’re a total pervert doesn’t mean you have to attack every underage girl you see with your bizarre sexual fantasies!” I stood up, leaning over the table and flashing my glowing red eyes at my uncle. He held his hands up, dramatically surrendering and getting up from his chair.

A sinister grin stretched across his face. “Dear nephew, you wouldn’t get so defensive if you didn’t care.” He grabbed the file he was reading, starting to make his way back up the creaky spiral staircase.

I groaned as I heard the guest bedroom- that Peter had dubbed his room- door slam shut before shouting up the stairs, “Mind your own goddamn business, asshole!”

No matter how many times I tell him not to, Peter continues to insert himself into my personal life, holding onto it like a goddamn leech. I can’t wait for Cora to come up from South America once she finishes her case with…

I shook my head, trying to get my mind out of the thought of Cora and who she’s with. I’ve got to keep that person out of my life at all costs, and my sister knows that… Yet I keep getting calls. I took out my phone, ignoring the few text messages on the notification screen and checking the other messages I had. I should just block the number, but I can’t bring myself to do it. After answering the few message I had from Scott, then putting my phone back in my pocket. When I dropped the phone, my fingertip grazed the top of a smooth ish object resting at the bottom of my pocket.

What the hell… I rarely have things in my pocket other than a phone and my wallet, so the smooth object was rather intriguing. I reached a little deeper, grasping the small object between my fingertips and pulling it out. The object was now resting in my hands, so I opened my palm to reveal a small, silver metallic necklace, the thin chain all tangled in a knot. It’s Vanessa’s necklace- she gave it to me last night and I guess I forgot to give it back… Shit, it’s her mom’s, she’s probably worried sick about it.

Looking into the distorted reflection of the blueish purple charm, I could see the image of Vanessa’s bright smile right before she kissed me. I know I should probably bring this back to her tonight, but part of me knows going to see her while Isaac is around isn’t a good idea. Then again, I don’t want her to stress about having lost her necklace. I looked down at the tiny pendant once again, taking in a deep breath.

“Hey Peter,” I called upstairs, hoping he would hear me. “I”m going out for a while! I’ll be back later.”

And with that, I shoved the necklace back into my pocket, grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and headed out of the loft, sliding the door shut behind me.

VANESSA’S P.O.V.

By the time Stiles and I got home from the Silos, the sun had already started to set. We knew our father wouldn’t be home until well past dark, so until then we had some time to ourselves, which hardly ever happened. I think Isaac is over at Scott’s playing video games or something, so now I had time to think about last night- about Derek- about anything that I couldn’t with Isaac hanging around over my shoulder. Oh, also, time to look for my damn necklace which is still MIA.

“I invited Lydia over, just letting you know.” Stiles said to me just as I started to make my way up the stairs to my room.

I laughed, leaning over the bannister. “For me because she’s my best friend, or for you so you can get some necktie-on-the-doorknob action?”

Stiles went silent for a moment, pausing to think very carefully about his answer. “If I have to live with you and Isaac, I’m allowed to have this- so shut up.”

“Fair point,” I said, letting out another loud laugh and continuing up the stairs. “I’ll be in my room if you need me!”

“Not likely!” Stiles called back, and I just shook my head. He may not like to admit it, but our brains are two halves to a whole when it came to figuring out the supernatural phenomenons in Beacon Hills. He’ll need me eventually.

As I walked down the hall to my room, a strange scent started to overwhelm me. Not a scent I’m used to smelling in my house, but familiar nonetheless. I just can’t pinpoint it… Then when I turned the corner into my bedroom, I was almost scared into a comatose state by a particular tall, brooding alpha dressed in all black, topped off with a shady leather jacket.

“Jesus, Derek!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down, god forbid Stiles were to find out about our unexpected visitor. “You scared the shit out of me,”

He furrowed his eyebrows, shrugging. “Uh, sorry,”

I paused for a moment, my gaze turning over to the open window behind Derek. “Did you seriously break in through the window?”

“It’s not breaking in if the window was unlocked.”

“I’m not sure that’s how the law works, Sourwolf.” I said, a special kind of joy igniting in me when he cringed at the nickname. “So, what was so important that breaking-and-entering was required?” I stepped closer to him, watching how his posture changed.

He pursed his lips and nodded, digging into his pocket and pulling out a familiar silver necklace with a purply pendant. “I thought you might want this back.”

“My necklace!” I gently took the thin chain out of his grasp, quickly re clasping it around my neck. “I was wondering where it was… How did you get it?”

“You don’t remember?” He said, his posture uncomfortably shifting again. “I, uh… I brought you home last night. You thought that you would lose the necklace, so you asked me to hold onto it.”

He brought me home? I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to think back to last night but as expected, drew a blank.

“No sorry, I didn’t remember. Thanks though, for getting me home- Honestly, I don’t remember much of last night…” I said rubbing my head, trying not to think too much into what could have happened with Derek while I was drunk.

“Yeah, I would think that getting poisoned would affect your memory a bit,” Derek laughed, reaching up to stretch his neck.

“Wait- poisoned?” Here I was thinking I just had a night of heavy drinking… damn.

“Uh, nothing too serious. Just a little wolfsbane in the kegs; classic werewolf party trick, even though in this case it would used to distract you guys so someone could get away with murder, but…” Derek continued to ramble on about the technicalities of last night, telling me all about how my ears were bleeding from the bass, and how Isaac almost fell flat on his face- I let out a pretty loud laugh at that one. I could tell her was starting to get nervous- it didn’t take a great werewolf to be able to smell the pheromones radiating from him. Which meant he could definitely smell the ones I could feel coming off of me. Really, I can’t explain it but just being with him, watching his muscles move under his shirt and noticing the nervous ticks he displays when I make certain moves.

“Well, you’ve got your necklace so I should probably let myself out…” He said, starting to pull himself back out the window. It took me a moment to realize I was still daydreaming about his biceps and that he was leaving through my damn bedroom window which he barely managed to squeeze himself out of.

“Oh shit-” I muttered to myself, taking one giant step towards the window, poking my head out in hopes to catch him. “Derek!”

He turned back around, his green eyes reflecting off the moonlight. “Huh?”

I smiled, brushing a piece of hair that had flown astray in the spring breeze back behind my ear. “Thanks for bringing my necklace back.”

Derek mouth curved into a small grin. “No problem.” He said, starting to make his way down the roof again.

Part of me was okay with watching him go, knowing that him staying would just cause more personal trouble with my guilty conscience- then again, a bigger part of me wanted to spend more time with him, even if it was just talking.

Quick, I thought to myself- think fast.

“Hey!” I called out again, Derek craning his yeah, a hidden smile still plastered across his face.

“What, Vanessa?” My heartbeat ticked after hearing the way my name rolled off his tongue in that raspy voice.

I gripped onto my windowsill, holding myself steady as I pushed myself out further over the ledge, grabbing Derek by the cottony collar of his shirt, pressing my lips up against his. He seemed a little taken aback by the kiss at first, taking a second before his hands move to my cheek, sling his tongue past my teeth, the familiar minty taste igniting a spark in me. I started to pull Derek back into my bedroom, not even disconnecting our lips as he stumbled back through the window. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it hit the floor as I grasped desperately at his shirt, trying to peel it over his head. Once I got it off and had discarded it behind me, I ran my fingers down his chest and sides, feeling every little crevice in his skin as I went by.

Derek began to weave his hands under the hem of my flimsy shirt, his warm touch sending a wave of goosebumps over me. He pulled his lips away from mine, slowly planting wet kisses down my jaw and neck, leaving me in a heated faze. I could tell he was trying to refrain from leaving a mark on me, even though I wanted it probably just as much as him. He continued to move his lips lower and lower, fingers working to slip my shirt off so he could keep going. Derek had started to work his hands around me, tugging at where the clasp in my bra was. Instead of letting him finish the job, I pushed him- hard. He stumbled back, landing flat on my bed and I wasted no time before straddling him, strategically placing myself in just the right place where just a little bit of friction sent Derek’s toes curling. My lips kissed and tugged and the junction between his shoulder and neck, making him let out a deep groan- a noise I’ve never heard Isaac make or even thought capable of making, but damn is it sexy.

I slowly made my way down Derek’s chest and stomach, quickly working my fingers to undo the belt that barely held his jeans above that gorgeous v-line in his hips.

Derek reached his hand down, not doing what I expected he was going to do and tilted my chin up with his index finger. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, not really able to tell what he was thinking. I couldn’t really even get a clear scent off of him other then the same pheromones from before. He slid his thumb over my bottom lip, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He muttered, not taking his eyes away from mine.

“Who’s to say I don’t want too?” I replied, kissing even lower and down that v-line that drives me crazy. He bucked his hips a little and groaned as my hand slipped past the hem of his boxers.

“Maybe the part of you that still remembers you have a boyfriend…”

I paused my movements, breath catching in my throat. I clenched my jaw tight, trying to refrain from saying something I was going to regret. Instead, I just got up off my knees, rolling my neck.

“Damnit, Derek,” I said, suddenly feeling quite exposed so I reached for my shirt and pulling it back over my head. Derek propped himself up on his elbow, looking up at me. “I was just trying to give you a blowjob, but now you’ve gone and ruined the mood.”

“Well you shouldn’t be giving other guys blowjobs if you’re going to get all freaked out your boyfriend gets brought up!” He hissed at me, still trying to keep his voice down.

“You’re not supposed to bring up the boyfriend when you know you’re about to get blown, Derek- that should just be a general rule!” I picked up his shirt off the floor, throwing it at him along with his jacket. He scrambled to get his shirt on, not even bothering to pull on his coat before starting to climb out the window. Once he was out, I was planning on closing the window on him, but he grabbed on and pulled up- unfortunately, I lost that battle.

“Vanessa,” He looked up at me, his big green doe eyes making my heart melt.

“What?”

Derek pushed himself through my window once again, planting a last kiss on my lips before retreating down the roof, leaving me alone, the minty taste of his lips still fresh. I sighed, slowly closing the window. God, I’ve really got to shower- If I still smell like Derek when Isaac gets home, I’m screwed.

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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Hi, Ben! Hope you had a good day, or at least a calm one! I think your tree is adorable, and I love your tree topper! It’s so pretty! Also, my congrats if Mo leaves it alone. Most of the kitty parents I know are full of horror stories about their cats climbing the tree/trying to eat the tree/trying to eat things off the tree/etc. XD One friend’s cat earned herself the nickname Monkey because the very first thing she did the night they brought her home was go right up the tree. I’m pretty sure that was at least a decade ago, and the only person who ever calls her by her actual name at this point is probably my friend’s dad. Another friend complains every year that she can’t use tinsel on her tree anymore because her cats will try to eat it.

And omg, that Disney/TW thing was terrible. Most of them seemed to only be using the most shallow, surface level reading of the characters, as usual they seemed to forget that Disney made animated films before the early 90s, and also as usual, Noah and Melissa got left out, despite having been there the full run of the show. I think I usually headcanon Peter more CN than anything else, but I can see the logic behind some NE being mixed in there, too. Some of that could be because I tend to see his apparent desire for power as more of a trauma-based need for control than just purely for its own sake. (It might have helped if they’d been a bit more consistent with his character…)

It’s probably because I was out of the fandom for a while, but most stuff I’ve seen that addresses it typically has the Hales being of British Isles descent. I think that’s mainly because the name itself is English (I think?), and it helps to explain the abundance of Celtic mythology/imagery if it’s something they brought with them when settling the town. I’m not particularly bothered either way, though, and always enjoy a chance to learn about other culture’s customs. :D And I love how everyone just agrees that Peter is the type to just casually speak like a dozen languages, just because he can. XD Also, I’m now picturing a springerle rolling pin that’s nothing but wolf images, a quite literally hand-carved hand-me-down (that I’m going to pretend was stored in the vault.)

And yeah, I figured the other kids would adapt pretty well, but I definitely foresee an issue with Jax. I feel like it’s going to come down to one of his siblings having to step in, probably either Malia (because he actually likes her) being like “Hey, could you maybe try not being such an obnoxious douche-nozzle to my dad before I punch you in the throat? Do I treat your dad that way?”, or Ben just being like “Why are you so mean to Poppa?” and then Jackson will have to face the full effect of the sad puppy face that got sprung on Stiles. XD

I feel like it would make sense for it to take a few full moons for a turned wolf to achieve a full shift, especially if there’s no genetic component. Almost all the wolves we see turned in the show have a rough enough time adapting at first without throwing in something like that. I definitely think it makes more sense for born wolves to have an easier/quicker time of it, especially at first.

I love both of the recent previews. I seriously have been ferally screaming over the pinned one all day. XD The swagger. The mountain ash. The “goddammit Peter, he’s not afraid of you, he’s afraid for you” of it all. And the section when he’s first shifting is good, too (no matter when it was written.) That’s going to be freaky as hell, even if you’re expecting it. And the whole thing with the way his bones are cracking and such just feels like it emphasizes how warped and wrong it all is, at least to me, because as best I remember, the few times we see a full shift in the show, it just sort of seems to flow from one to the other. Also, it just occurred to me that his alpha form was almost like a perfect balance of the American Werewolf in London and Underworld versions of full shift. I’m curious to see if he maintains that version or if the presence of his mates/pack help him heal to a more normal version. Part of me wants to see him get better because I don’t like seeing them hurt, part of me really wants to see his beast form tackle hug Noah and Chris and try to cuddle in their laps. XD

And oh, man, those window seats just made me want them to have one in the rebuilt Hale house, maybe in like a loft or an upper floor, that’s big enough for the three of them to cram into, or the kids, or assorted combos thereof, in whatever forms they choose. Especially for like during storms and stuff. Just, all the cuddles, and reading stories to the littles, and taking random naps in the sunshine, and everything.

Also, now I’m picturing Noah and Chris singing shit like “You Make It Feel Like Christmas” and “Cuddle Up, Cozy Down Christmas”, or like that “Peace On Earth/Little Drummer Boy” thing Bing Crosby and David Bowie did, while trying to make Peter a surprise breakfast, and it’s adorable. And I’ve been listening to way too much Straight No Chaser holiday music to deal with the idea of them all singing together in anything approaching a rational manner. And is he not supposed to look at them like they’re part of the menu? I’m pretty sure if Peter was given the option of what he’d like to eat first…well. XD

Those poor teachers. They probably thought they’d lucked out with this one after Stiles and Malia, and then the holidays came around… (Just wait until they get the next round of Haleargentski children…) XD

And I’m going to hold you to that promise of romance XD (not really, if it doesn’t work out that way, don’t worry.) I would say “my body is ready”, but that feels like it might come across somewhat awkward. XD Although it did occur to me that given how he is about the whole “your all’s shirts are way too tight to share” thing, when it gets to that point, Noah’s probably also going to have one of those “it’s been a hot minute, so some things aren’t quite what they used to be” type moments like Chris had with Peter at the motel, though I think he’d be more likely to try and joke it off, and Peter’s just going to be like “Gods, you two really are as bad as each other sometimes”, while happily reassuring both of them, because he can, and he enjoys it.

And wow, I’ve rambled on so much longer than I meant to given that I have an early shift tomorrow (or today, really… ’>.> ) So, I hope you got some decent rest, and your meds are helping like they should, and that you are happy with what you got done on the chapter. I hope that today goes well, too, and that you find some good candy at post-holiday discount prices, if that is a thing they do there (or will that not happen until after Christmas?) Anyway, I hope you have a good day, whatever else happens. Take care! *Hugs!*

Hey hey, I honestly had a pretty good day yesterday, a little busy because of last minute store runs and an uncooperating phone. (oh joy, had to reset the bastard twice) but other than that, pretty good.

Treated myself to a new game for Sinterklaas. It’s the Spiderman Game of the Year edition, I didn’t have that game yet and it was on sale for like 28 bucks and people left really good reviews. Maybe if I get some money for Christmas I might also get me the Miles Morales one, the new one. But I’m also getting Cyberpunk cause I pre-ordered it back in April, so we’ll see. I might just wait until Miles Morales goes on sale too in a couple of months. Still have to finish Valhalla first though XD.

And you’re not gonna believe it, but Mo left my Christmas tree completely alone. He does not care about the Christmas tree. He does not care about plants. He does not care about BOXES. I honestly think my cat is broken, but then again, I am typing this while he is sleeping in my lap and purring, so who cares.

And Omg XD I am eternally grateful Mo didn’t do that but I love Monkey and can see why they got that nickname XD What a rascal!

I mostly included NE for Peter because apparently that’s what Ian Bohen considers Peter’s Alignement to be. I personally think he’s more CN too (though I am probably basing that on his trauma.)

I actually made a personal alignment chart for the characters in Once Upon A Time here. (Though I forgot to include three characters namely the Nurse, John, and Danny. I think Danny would fall under either NG or LN and he would probably tell someone if someone’s shoe laces were untied, and the nurse more under LE I guess, considering her background, though I feel like she’s not evil for evil’s sake she more or less was driven to it and as such has a strong need for revenge regardless of whom she hurts, though she tries to redeem herself later. (and that’s all I will say due to spoilers). And she would probably tie the person’s shoe laces for them, old habits die hard.) John I feel like would be CG or LN and he’d be the person to untie his own shoes in solidarity. (kinda like his grandchildren Stiles and Malia, where do you think they got that one from?)

But yeah I’m still not sure how to feel about the Disney one. I can kinda see with some of them where they were coming from but none of it feels ‘flawless’ or particularly right to me? Idk. I honestly feel like Kuzco and maybe Pocahontas were the two biggest Nopes for me. I mean Scar kinda fits, Elsa, I can see that, but none of it I truly identify these characters with. Idk.

And I feel like Peter or John probably had the foresight to store some of their most prized family heirlooms in that vault. Such as a copy of the family photo, Peter’s triskelion necklace piece, a springerle with wolf inscriptions, some video tapes of the family, personal artifacts of each family member, and Talia and John’s claws, family recipes, some gifts John made for his grandchildren, and John’s journal about the family history, werewolf lore, and lots of dirt on both Elias Stilinski and Gerard Argent.

I feel like Peter speaking lots of languages also just makes sense. He seems to be the type to have connections everywhere and to have little birds everywhere listening in for him. He would also be the type of person to either have connections to or keep an eye on the Russian and Italian Maffia, he learned French and Polish for Chris and Noah, Spanish is just a useful language to learn because it's vast. And German and Dutch were taught to him from a young age, probably some Latin too. So I can see why many people would headcanon Peter as mutli-lingual, it just makes sense for his character.

Malia and Ben ganging up on Jackson is my new favorite image. Can you imagine what the combined power of those two will be? Also just any of the teenagers realizing they can deploy the younger sibling to be absolutely adorable and people will do anything for that face, no matter what the teenagers are asking.

As for Peter’s wolf, why not both? There’s no reason why he can’t act like an overgrown puppy as a beast and still heal and slowly revert back to his original form over the course of a couple of full moons as his mind heals from the trauma.

They’re definitely getting a windowseat big enough to seat three adults, four teenagers and a couple of little ones. Surrounded by books, a few curtains and lots of pillows. it needs to happen.

And you guessed it, there’s gonna be a shy moment where both Chris and Noah get self conscious about their bodies. Noah because, well, he gained some weight, got a bit older, has some stretch marks although he’s still goddamn fit considering what he does and he tries to play it off as a joke, Peter will show him just how sexy he is, really. And Chris has another moment because he had another baby, so more pudge, more stretch marks and due to his humanity, more scars. I think I’ll let Noah handle that one first and then Peter helps. Chris of course also worships Noah’s body, because holy shit, none of them is exactly in bad shape, but Noah’s definitely been hiding way more. Also Noah’s tall now, so Chris just sort of melts when the taller man sweeps him off his feet. We also need some Omega/Omega love in this story.

And wow, now I’ve been rambling XD. I’m gonna make me some late breakfast (it’s 1 pm) and grab some coffee and then start writing.

#ben says stuff #my convos with anon #B #once upon a time comments #submission

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tally-my-words · 7 years

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It had been about five years since Sam had set foot in Aspen Creek, Montana. He could tell from the tightness across Dean’s shoulders that it might be been longer. Dad would have come here, though. It shouldn’t hurt to remember his father here. This place always seemed suited for the broken thing that was John Winchester. He shrugged it off, doing his best to appear calm. Dean didn’t like this anymore then he did. At least it would be Samuel taking care of him. Other doctors, even those who understood werewolves, were never half so efficient. He shifted in his seat and opened the impala door. It was awkward, still, despite how long his wrist had been wrong, to shut the car door and walk like the injury didn’t bother him. Lone wolves shouldn’t show weakness in another’s territory. It helped that it was Bran’s. He shifted to look over at Dean. He knew how angry Dean was at Samuel.

“We could have found someone else,” Sam mentioned, trying to be aware how on edge his brother was.

“You broke it during the car crash and it’s never healed right. All it took was some wonked out Croatian zombie to break it again and it’s still not right. You keep messing it up and it’ll never be right. Best case, you lack wrist motion for the next few hundred years, worse case it gets you dead. Go,” Dean countered, gesturing towards the small storefront that read, ‘Dr. Samuel Cornick, M.D.’

Sam shifted away and walked into the small office, hunched slightly forward, hands in his pocket, despite his broken wrist. It would be pretty quick for Samuel to set it and afterwards, it would be right. That was what got Dean through the process of not walking into the office and punching the man. He knew Samuel would agree he deserved any physical abuse Dean chose to give him, but he wasn’t sure that Samuel’s very dominant wolf would agree. The third most powerful werewolf in the country was not someone he wanted to challenge, especially when he could help Sammy.

He continued to lean against the car, posture purposefully confident and casual. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a woman approaching. Long legs were covered in tights to keep out the incredibly cold air. His nose immediately told him she was a werewolf despite her light perfume. Her smile beamed with easy confidence.

“Hello, Hello!” she greeted, waving with the hand not holding an expensive coffee beverage. A young wolf by his best guess, wearing high heels. She approached closer, smile still perfect and he was honestly a little floored, shifting to face her. She was super-model tall with strong legs and a perfect hour glass. She brought both hands to clutch the drink and he noted they were clean, not like him or Sam. Or Mercy. He smiled warmly back as he evaluated what was certainly a pretty face, warm skin brushed with something resembling gold-dust from an old Western, her brown hair streaked with highlights that naturally matched.

Wow, that was far more pleasant than most werewolves would be meeting a stranger on their territory. He smiled, tight lipped and assumed it was the easy grace that being a submissive wolf gave. He wanted to be casual, but for some reason, it was difficult. “Hello,” he finally managed, sounding stand-offish, but at least he didn’t sound like he was hitting on her, yet.

“Charlie saw your car and told me to come play greeting party. It’s pretty,” she commented. The statement was simple, like she didn’t know, but with an innocence he wasn’t sure he could trust. She might not know what the car was, but she certainly didn’t strike him as obtuse. Especially not if Charles sent her as his envoy.

“Then he knows I’m in town,” Dean countered. Charles would recognize the impala.

“He didn’t specify,” she teased, corners of her mouth crinkling. She obviously knew the car was a recognizable one. He was right, not a stupid woman. He smirked back, just a little.

“He knows I’m here, he knows where I am, likely, and he knows I’ve always been a friendly,” Dean added. “So he sent you down here to be friendly.”

“He didn’t specify,” she countered a second time. “Charles is polite enough to make suggestions, but this wasn’t one of them. Suggestions are a nice trait I wish more men would pick up on. Mark of a gentlemen.”

Dean felt easier, immediately. She wasn’t flirting because Charles had suggested it. He liked the fact that this woman obviously knew she was gorgeous. “You’re right, he is,” he agreed, amiable. “I do like that you’re being nice.”

“I’m nice to everyone. Charlie would tell you that if you asked,” she added. He wasn’t sure if it was to get him to stop flirting or to get him to flirt more.

She didn’t smell like Charles, not like the spirit magic and herbs the Marrok’s son often worked with. She didn’t smell like anyone. She smelled of French perfume and roses. He caught the hint of one scent more than others and it made him a tad nervous. Perhaps she was someone’s and his senses were as dull as Sam suggested. It would be a bad idea to flirt with the Moor’s woman. He doubted it. She was too independent to likely be mated with that old a wolf. Independence like hers was rare among female werewolves. He liked that too. “Charles must think highly of you to let you call him that,” Dean teased, a smile warming again across his features.

“I don’t know, I never asked him if it was okay. He just didn’t growl,” she replied. It was an easy comment. Brilliant, beautiful, and submissive was his best guess at her unique personality. No wolf would try to put such an easy going woman in place. She was a pleasure. He felt odd in thinking that.

“Then you won,” he teased. He shifted, awkward. Sam might take longer than he expected. Samuel liked making other wolves wait on him and he knew Dean’s issue with him. Taking longer to talk with Sam would irate him, Samuel Cornick surely knew. “Know a place close by for a good meal? I’ll treat.”

The woman chuckled, warmth spilling over her face as she walked away, shrugging her shoulders from side to side as if unsure and playful. She walked him past the doctor’s office door and gestured towards the small restaurant at the far end of the street. Dean already knew its location. “I appreciate it, but the greaser look is a little thick with that car and that jacket and to then take me to a dinner,” she teased.

For some reason, it made him smirk. She caught him at one of his personas, applied when nervous or trying to get laid. He had to admit, it was firmly a mixture of both. He turned back towards her, facing the impala. He got the strong implication, suddenly, that she wasn’t interested in him. She saw the persona and it wasn’t her cup, but she didn’t dislike the person behind it. She was reading him every bit as well as he read her and both were missing valuable information. “Seriously, who are you? S. E. Hinton?” he countered. She had that strange feeling of familiarity and insight that he always associated with that book. He was a touch angry when she laughed.

“Really? ‘The Outsiders?’ Not a bad book, but could you be more stereotypical!” she countered, a true smile replacing the pretty face and practically glowing when she mentioned the novel. “Tough guy who hides his book knowledge behind a leather jacket and, if I read the ride of your jeans right, an illegal firearm.”

Dean’s mouth would have been open if he hadn’t been watching Sam exit the doctor’s office and begin to make his way over towards him. Something suddenly shifted in his brother’s expression from tired, pained, and stressed to oddly confused. It definitely resembled a puppy. Sam had stopped in his tracks and Sage seemed to have heard the walking, but hadn’t acknowledged the other man yet, unconcerned until Sam spoke. “Worse than the kid who loves to ‘To Kill a Mockingbird?’”

She turned around almost immediately, the smile still intact. Sam seemed to need less effort and already knew the woman. “Sam? You grew really tall! And that means this must be Dean!” she exclaimed and Sam’s bitch face was priceless before shifting into nervousness he rarely ever saw on his brother’s face.

“Dean, this is Sage Carhardt. Sage, yes, this is my brother Dean. Asil sent you?” he asked, voice small.

“No, Charlie, but he didn’t tell me you’re in town,” she replied. She then immediately turned on her toes, as if suddenly more interested in Dean and he was confused until she spoke again. “I’ve heard stories about you, Dean. You ran around with Mercy and cause all kinds of havoc from what I understand.”

Dean half blushed, looking away. Sage gave him no sense of threat when her eyes would occasionally meet his, looking away from her was easy. She posed no challenge for him to respond to. “Sam helped,” he teased, loving how nervous his brother was in front of the pretty woman. Probably not interested in either of them, but playing them like fiddles.

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I was like,” he began to say, but was cut off.

“Are you staying in town?” she asked Dean. It seemed intimate. He wasn’t sure if she was asking for herself, Asil, or Charles.

“No, we’re leaving as soon as we get food,” Dean informed. Aspen Creek was always awkward for Dean after he’d been turned and his control was on edge ever since John had died.

Sage nodded and extended her hand to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I wish you were staying longer. Here’s my number. You should call me,” she informed with a slightly saucy wink. She then gave Sam a quick smile and added, “Keep an eye out on him.” His eyes met hers this time and he immediately realized how wrong he’d been about the strange, pretty wolf. He locked eyes long enough to make sure she understood that Sammy was his only priority in the world before quickly looking away. She was incredibly dominant and very old. He was close enough now, also to be sure – she wasn’t mated, either, it was her power, not borrowed like Leah’s. She gave him the quickest of hugs before turning and giving a slightly longer one to Sam. He was jealous.

#fic bit #WWT #wolves wings and wrenches #sam winchester x sage carhardt #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #Samuel Cornick #Sage Carhardt

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mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 7 years

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“We could have found someone else,” Sam mentioned, trying to be aware how on edge his brother was.

“Then he knows I’m in town,” Dean countered. Charles would recognize the impala.

“He didn’t specify,” she countered, corners of her mouth crinkling. She obviously knew the car was a recognizable one. He was right, not a stupid woman. He smirked back, just a little.

“He knows I’m here, he knows where I am, likely, and he knows I’ve always been a friendly,” Dean added. “So he sent you down here to be friendly.”

“I’m nice to everyone. Charlie would tell you that if you asked,” she added. He wasn’t sure if it was to get him to stop flirting or to get him to flirt more.

“Dean, this is Sage Carhardt. Sage, yes, this is my brother Dean. Asil sent you?” he asked, voice small.

“No, Charlie, but he didn’t tell me you’re in town,” she replied. She then immediately turned on her toes, as if suddenly more interested in Dean and he was confused until she spoke again. “I’ve heard stories about you Dean. You ran around with Mercy and cause all kinds of havoc from what I understand.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I was like,” he began to say, but was cut off.

“Are you staying in town?” she asked Dean. It seemed intimate. He wasn’t sure if she was asking for herself, Asil, or Charles.

“No, we’re leaving as soon as we get food,” Dean informed. Aspen Creek was always awkward for Dean after he’d been turned and his control was on edge ever since John had died.

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