#its always so much about allowing yourself to go crazy and not worry lest you stifle your creativity

[shararan]

good news: started shortfic 300 words

good news 2: its binggehua

??? news: its pushing the boundaries of a shortfic as im at 1500 words and cant stop for a break

worse news: my back is dying

good news 3: still kicking and screaming as the words flow like waterfall

less good but also ???? news: its in swedish

not good but kinda makes me laugh news: ill be the one to take yet another fandoms swedish fic virginity on ao3

[yukiwrites]

Step by Step, Towards the End

Thank you so much for the support as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like it!

Summary: Wolfram had chosen to stay by Dimitri and Byleth's side, so he would do anything to be able to keep on helping them achieve their objectives. He didn't expect to feel so proud, happy and fulfilled just by being part of history being written, though!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Despite being wet until their bones, the two did not let go of their embrace, sharing the very last of their warmth with each other. As Dimitri was weary from pouring his heart out for the first time in his life, he started to get heavier and heavier in Wolfram’s arms.

Although he was part dragon, Wolfram wasn’t one to rely much on physical strength, so Dimitri’s weight would undoubtedly topple them both on a puddle lest Wolfram did something. The answer came from a nearby cot at the stables -- Aquilo called on Wolfie once he saw his master trembling with cold and with lack of strength in his legs.

Little by little did they both walk without breaking physical contact until they reached Aquilo’s cot, and further until they were within Aquilo’s embrace, under his wing.

As a wyvern, Aquilo’s body was not warm in the slightest, not to mention the piercing cold of Dimitri’s armor… And yet, their embrace filled Wolfram’s chest with warmth, especially since he held Dimitri within his bosom, allowing the Prince something he most likely hadn’t had ever since his family passed away: solace, and a shoulder to cry on.

At some point, despite it all, Dimitri fell into a short sleep, one that wasn’t accompanied by the ghosts of the past; one that allowed him to rest his weary bones for the first time in… a decade. Wolfie simply did what his Mother and Father did for him whenever they nested: he ran his fingers through Dimitri’s wet hair, bringing him a sense of belonging.

The rain stopped before dawn broke, and the ensuing silence woke Dimitri up from his light sleep. He blinked slowly, as though wondering if he was within a dream for it to be so comfortable, but soon met with Wolfram’s blue lips and tired eyes.

“Oh…” Dimitri flinched. “Forgive me, I wasn’t myself.” He sat up, noticing he was under Aquilo’s wing. “I must ask for forgiveness once again, you’re freezing! Let us-”

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Wolfie placed a placating hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. “I’m here because I want to be, so no need to apologize to me! Besides, I’m more worried about you. Are you feeling better?”

“I,” Dimitri opened his mouth, then closed it as he looked down. “Yes, I am feeling better. Thank you for stopping me on my suicidal mission, Wolfram. Were you not there, I would perhaps die a dog’s death pursuing Edelgard…”

“Mhm,” Wolfie bobbed his head to the sides, taking Dimitri’s hand into his. “I’m still worried, though, especially about those stabs. You didn’t let anyone take a look at it yesterday, right? I used a bit of healing magic during the night, but magic won’t heal infections, so I wanna take a look at it as soon as possible.”

Dimitri deflated, a small smile sprouting on his lips from the solace of having someone worry about him. “Of course. The maids should have started placing hot water on the tubs, so please come warm yourself in my quarters.”

Wolfram felt a shiver run down his spine and smiled weakly. “Sure! I won’t say no to a warm bath.”

The walk to Dimitri’s quarters was silent, though they never let go of each other’s hands, as though still lingering on the previous night’s events. Once they arrived, they almost ran into the maid that was coming out of the room from supplying the tub with hot water.

“K-kyaa!” She shrieked lightly as she saw Dimitri up close, shivering as though she had met the god of death itself. “F-forgive me my impudence, please spare me-” she bowed deeply, fearing meeting Dimitri’s eyes.

Hesitating, the prince let out a pained smile and stopped reaching out for the bowing maid.

“It’s alright. Thank you for your service, miss,” he said politely, which prompted the girl to look up to him in shock before she nodded vigorously and scurried off to continue with her work.

Wolfram followed the girl’s back with his eyes, then turned to Dimitri, placing one hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

The prince nodded, entering the room. “I’ve much to atone for, and many to apologize to for my past behavior,” he took a deep breath, as though that was the first time he did so in five years. “Thinking for myself and living for myself is no easy task, but I… am ready to walk towards that direction.”

“Mhm,” Wolfie leaned on the door as pride swelled in his chest. Dimitri took off his cloak, placing it on a coat hanger beside the door.

“Then, please, Wolfram, help yourself to the hot water.” He started unbuckling his bracers.

“Oh, no, I’m not going until after you! You’re the patient here and I want this wound clean and dressed before I’m to do anything!” Wolfie puffed his cheeks, poking Dimitri’s shoulder.

Chuckling, the prince nodded obediently. “Very well, friend. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” After saying that, and free from his bracers, Dimitri started to undress himself of his armor.

The cloak and the armor were heavy on their own, yes, but as each piece of clothing came off, Wolfram could see where all that weight that almost crushed him the night before came from: Dimitri’s body knew nothing but muscles and scars. They were firm to the eye and Wolfie was sure that they would be just as hard if he were to touch them and-

He felt… rather weird. His throat was dry and his reflex was to look away once Dimitri was about to take off his breeches. Only when the prince was fully immersed into the tub did Wolfram look again, somewhat conscious of how weird his heart was beating at that moment.

“How does it look?” Dimitri tilted his head to the side, revealing his naked nape, the place where the stabbing was most severe. As Wolfram thought, it looked like it would infect soon, so he was adamant on cleaning it well.

“Phew, good thing we caught it early!” The half-manakete said once he was satisfied with the cleaning job. “Okay, but I’ll need some herbs and bandages… I’ll go get them now!” He fled before Dimitri could even protest, his face on fire.

Wolfie ran towards the infirmary inside the bridge (that was reserved for high-ranking soldiers), his face so hot he almost forgot how cold he had been just an hour previous. His mind was chaotic, trying to understand his erratic emotions, though his hands moved with the ease of familiarity with the place. He didn’t even realize he was already on his way back after getting everything he needed until he was in front of Dimitri’s door again.

“I’m back!” he went in without being fully ready, his heart pounding.

It pounded harder once he saw that Dimitri was sitting on the bed with only a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one hanging over his shoulders.

“Welcome back,” he smiled warmly. The wound in his eye was already closed and taken care of, but it was the first time Wolfie was seeing Dimitri without his eyepatch, so he needed a moment to revive his heart.

“How handsome…” he mumbled, then gasped. “Um, okay! Here they are! Lemme look at your wound again!” He spoke in a high-pitched voice that was foreign to his own ears. However, once he got close, he realized it would be no use to dress the wound on Dimitri’s neck if his hair was still dripping wet. “Wait, let me dry this for you,” Wolfie placed the medicine on a nearby table, then carefully took the towel on Dimitri’s shoulder to start drying his hair.

“... Thank you,” Dimitri closed his eyes, leaning his head on Wolfram’s touch. For some reason, he didn’t feel like apologizing or saying that he would do it himself. It felt good, warm and comforting to be pampered as though he was a child, even if only for a moment.

Wolfram’s heart went off like a battle horn; his face so red and rigid he even had trouble swallowing and breathing. Still, he couldn’t help but drown all of those noises his brain and heart were making to simply enjoy the moment. For how long had he wanted his first friend to be this well? It was a moment Wolfie wouldn’t trade for anything.

He dried Dimitri’s hair in silence, then only instructed the prince to move this or that way so he could properly dress the wounds before finally nodding with an easy smile. “There you go, all patched up! You need to rest, you hear? If you strain this area too much, it REALLY might infect…”

“Of course. Thank you once again, Wolfram. Now, please, warm yourself before the water gets cold; I cannot be at ease seeing how wet you got because of me.”

As though reminded of his still damp clothes, Wolfie shivered. “Uh-oh, I completely forgot about it. Okay, I’ll go take a bath now, thank you! But I can just heat up the water with my fire, so no need to worry about it getting cold, nyaha!” He winked -- as much as one could actually see it -- before running away behind the room divider.

Seeing Dimitri look UP at him with that warm gaze -- it made Wolfie feel all tangled up and weird inside. He had to warm himself up before he went crazy!

Since he had access to hair oil inside this room, Wolfram used the opportunity to wash his hair as well. It had gotten rather long in the past five years -- its tips were of a light green that resembled Nidra’s hair, which made Wolfie even prouder of being able to grow out his hair.

He took after Henry in many ways, especially in the hair area; his locks were thin and barely grew after some point, so no matter how much Wolfie wanted to have a long braid like his older brothers, he could never do it.

But that wasn’t the case anymore! Now he could braid his hair in Meliodas’ fashion, though his locks weren’t nearly as long as his brother’s: they barely reached up to the middle of his back, but that was a start!

Wolfie came out of the room divider with a smile as he lovingly dried his hair. He found Dimitri midway to putting his armor back on, which made the smile die immediately.

“Wait, you need to rest!” He protested, blocking Dimitri’s path to another piece of armor.

Dimitri’s hand dropped, but his back was straight and his gaze was firm. “Thank you for worrying about me so much, Wolfram. Truly. I also must ask for forgiveness for how I’ve behaved in the past few months.” He bowed deeply, making Wolfram flinch.

“H-hey, I don’t need this-”

“No, you do. If it weren’t for you, the Professor and everyone, I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t be alive to think of what step to take next… So, yes, you and all the others need to be thanked and apologized to.” He was resolute. “I must admit I still do not know what to do to atone for all the monstrous acts I commited, but I do know that I will live my entire life looking for the answer.” He looked up to the ceiling, as though he could see something that wasn’t there. “The first step I need to take in order to redeem myself and live for what I believe in is… to return to Fhirdiad.”

Wolfram gasped at the remark, feeling pride swell in his heart. They were going to save the people that were suffering under the Dukedom and the Empire’s heel!

“I have always believed that to be the right path, but the shackles were…” he glanced up to the ceiling again, then smiled bitterly, “they were too much to bear. They are still heavy and I might falter under them, but if I am to follow the path of the living… then I am willing to bear that weight.”

“Mhm…” Wolfie clutched his chest with emotion, then watched as Dimitri reached out to take said hand into his.

“So I beg you not to stop me, friend. I must attend the morning council to relay not only my apologies but the change of course to the others. Instead, will you not go with me?”

Wolfram smiled, then pouted. “That’s unfair; of course I’ll go with you!”

Dimitri chuckled, squeezing Wolfie’s hand slightly before letting go. “Thank you, Wolfram.”

On their way to the council, Wolfram felt strange that there were many eyes on him -- he could feel glances from afar and from the people passing by them; all directed at him. What could it be?

The answer would arrive as soon as they stepped into the room: all of their classmates gasped at Dimitri’s entrance (and Dedue even faltered, worrying about his wounds), though their eyes lingered on Wolfram; specifically, his ears.

“Ah!” He gasped, then shut his mouth with one hand. How could he forget? He had revealed himself the previous day to save Dimitri! Now everyone knew he wasn’t human. Their eyes moved back to Dimitri during his speech, so Wolfram was given a few minutes to think of his situation.

He was wearing some random clothes that were hanging around Dimitri’s room since his own were completely drenched from last night, so it was no wonder that he didn’t even wear his own bandanna. Wolfie had been so focused on Dimitri, he forgot everything else!

It was a wonder in and of itself, honestly, especially because keeping that secret had always weighed heavily on him from day one. Now, it was gone with the wind, poof! Like it never happened… and Wolfie only just now noticed it.

It was almost funny!

He was smiling by the end of the meeting, which had spanned several hours after Dimitri suggested they change their course, so before Gilbert officially closed all topics for the day, Wolfie raised his hand with a light heart.

“What is it, lad?” Gilbert asked as he placed the documents he had taken back on the table.

Wolfram and Dimitri exchanged glances and the prince took a step back with a smile. Once Wolfie was at the center of the room, he found Caspar’s and Dorothea’s gazes before anyone else’s, which gave him even more strength to reveal everything.

“Yesterday… well, I was gonna say that some of you might’ve seen me flying without my wyvern yesterday, but even now you can see how different I am from all of you, right?” He turned his head to the sides, his still loose hair dancing behind him. “Actually, I’m not fully human and, well, I came from a faraway place to help.”

“Help? With the war? Did you know?!” Annette raised her hand as though asking a question at a seminar.

“Hmm, honestly, I was instructed to stay with Byleth, no matter what happened, so I didn’t really know what was going to happen.” Wolfie scratched his cheek. “I’m really sorry for deceiving you all about my amnesia, but I really didn’t have any choice. I couldn’t show up and say I wasn’t human in a place I never saw shape-shifters about…”

“Shape-shifter…” Mercedes hummed. “It was said that the Children of the Goddess could transform into dragons. Are you perhaps…?” She trailed off, placing one hand over her chest.

“Uh, I have a human father and a dragon mother, but she’s not a goddess. Well… I did come here on our own goddess’ orders, so…”

“Amazing! You came into contact with her?” Mercedes approached, smiling brightly. Behind her, Ignatz was also eager to listen.

“Nyaha!” Wolfie giggled.” Alright, giddy up…!” He raised his sleeves, looking for a chair to sit on. Telling that tale would take a while, but it seemed that most of them were willing to listen, so Wolfie smiled widely and got ready to finally reveal everything.

Well, he was going to keep the parts about Rhea, Flayn and Seteth to himself. Byleth also shared more of what happened to her when she came to him with questions, so it wasn’t his place to reveal that either, but he just had to say what he had already told Caspar and Dorothea, so it would all be okay!

Unfortunately, Wolfram didn’t take into account the amount of questions many people could ask as opposed to only two people, so the reveal ended up stretching all the way until lunch time, and then a bit more. The half-manakete even forgot that he had planned on giving Dimitri his jewel right after they exited the meeting, so once he freed himself from the last stragglers, he went back to the familiar corridor towards Dimitri’s room.

Since his heart was light all day, Wolfram wasn’t still completely into the mood a manakete would usually be in for a jewel exchanging moment. He knocked on the door with an easy smile, then entered with Dimitri’s permission to find the prince awkwardly on top of the bed.

“Dedue and the Professor threatened me, saying that they would not let me out of their sight unless I rested, so resting I am.” He huffed in a defeated sigh.

“Heehee,” Wolfie giggled in response, thanking both of them in his mind. “Good, because that’s where a patient should be.” He sat on the bed, which finally allowed Dimitri to sit up (‘resting’ was not something he was accustomed to), then fiddled with his pockets.

The nervousness came a bit late, but surely it wrapped Wolfie in its clutches. “Um, I have something for you,” he croaked out.

“You’ve given me so much already, Wolfram.” Dimitri touched the tip of Wolfie’s knee, which was close to him.

“But this is something I promised to give you five years ago, though; it’s looong overdue.” Wolfie pressed his lips nervously, fidgeting with the jewel in his pocket. “Remember that lock of hair I asked you to give me?”

Dimitri stared blankly at Wolfram for a good second before gasping softly. “... Indeed! You said that your kin forges a… jewel of sorts to symbolize their relationship…”

“Mhm,” Wolfie took out the jewel from his pocket, placing it on Dimitri’s palm. “We pour different feelings into our fire to craft jewels based on how we feel about this or that person. And in this… are my thoughts about you. I crafted this a bit after I heard you were dead, then missing, so there’s a lot of longing and hoping.”

“... I see.” Dimitri spoke softly, touching the jewel with his index. “You’ve been worrying about me for such a long time, have you not? I’ve no words of thanks left…”

“There’s no need for more thanks, just, um… This is a big deal for my people, so I’m only asking you to take good care of it?”

“Absolutely! If I had the skill, I would attach a chain to it to hand around my neck right away, but since this is too precious to try my luck on this, may I ask if I can hand it to someone so they can make it into a necklace?”

Wolfram fidgeted. “Um, I think it’s better if I do it. It’s something really intimate, you know?”

“Of course, thank you for teaching me yet another aspect of your culture. Then, I am returning this to you,” he placed the jewel back into Wolfram’s hand. “I look forward to the day when I can carry it with me always.”

“Mhm…” Wolfie felt all mushy inside, which even translated to his flushed cheeks. “Thanks for accepting it, Dimitri. It means a lot.” He giggled, then clutched his and Dimitri’s jewels into his hand and kissed it lovingly.

Seeing the heartwarming scene, Dimitri couldn’t help but smile in turn, not even realizing he reached out to caress Wolfram’s long hair.

So many things had changed.

Yet, the most important ones hadn’t, thankfully.

There wasn’t much time for Dimitri to rest, unfortunately. Since they were in a race against time -- their enemy already had a tight hold on the capitol and were striking at the remaining loyal houses as they spoke -- they needed to make haste to Fhirdiad if they wanted to bring Cornelia’s reign of terror to the end.

Along with Dimitri’s changed behavior and Wolfram’s revelation, many aspects of their daily lives improved. The prince now took the time to speak with every single soldier he could, not to mention the maids and servants.

Caspar even told Wolfram that Dimitri had apologized to him about the way he had treated Caspar’s uncle, Randolph, back at the monastery’s invasion! Wolfram couldn’t be prouder of the both of them, honestly. Dimitri, for obvious reasons, but Caspar for being able to forgive so easily and let go of the past, despite Wolfram having been the one who dealt the killing blow on Randolph.

The closer they got to Faerghus, the colder it got. Despite spring being in full bloom, a land of the north was still a land of the north until the end. Wolfie had to resort to wearing more layers of clothes under his armor, resigning himself to not transforming during the battle for Fhirdiad if it meant not wearing an open back shirt like usual.

Yet, despite the cold, the streets were burning -- self-inflicted flames hailing from the Dukedom’s soldiers themselves, who were intent on bringing down the city with them if they had to.

The fight was fierce and full of traps along the way, but soon Dimitri’s spear dug itself inside Cornelia’s chest, bringing an end to the tyranny of a woman mad with power. She had spouted some nonsense about Dimitri’s stepmother causing the tragedy that had changed his life forever, but the prince stood tall in face of her poisonous words, emerging victorious in the end.

Once he relayed his victory speech to the soldiers, Gilbert approached from behind, urging him to go up to the balcony and greet the people he had saved.

Dimitri paled in an instant. “Do you mean- no! I cannot face them, not after everything I did-”

“It’s precisely because you did everything you could that you must face them now, Your Majesty.” Gilbert bowed deeply, facing his King, at long last.

Still faltering, Dimitri took a shaky breath. “Very well. “ he took a step forward, then glanced at the allies that followed close behind -- Gilbert, Byleth, Dedue and Wolfram -- before smiling.

The roars of the people could be heard even before they could be seen.

“What… what is this?” Dimitri gapped at the warm welcome. He was expecting stones, not cheers of victory.

“As you can see, the people are rejoicing in the return of their King.” Gilbert said solemnly.

“Bloodstained as I am… Am I fit to be King?” His voice shook as his eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry, Dimitri.” Byleth poked at the tall man, smiling mischievously.

Sniffling, Dimitri dried his face. “These are happy tears, my friend.”

Hearing his emotional voice made Wolfie sniffle as well, though his tears went unseen. The thunderous applause of the people in front of him reverberated through his chest, making him stand upright and allow himself to feel proud. He was so proud of his friend; of his company; of… of even himself! It was because everyone had banded together to put an end to evil that they managed to achieve such an overwhelming victory!

With these light thoughts and steps, the group went to the victory celebration that the soldiers prepared while Dimitri was busy meeting the people.

The venue wasn't as fancy as it had been back at the Monastery -- they weren’t going to fill the royal hall with battle-worn soldiers, after all -- since they were huddling themselves around the barracks, but the atmosphere was just as lively. No, it was much, much livelier than in the past, since they were now celebrating a victory they had shed blood to achieve.

Caspar took Wolfram for a spin just like he had done when they were students, but this time there was no one to kick them out for tripping on other people. There was only laughter, song and good food all around.

Wolfram spun so much he started to get nauseous, so he excused himself for a bit to get some fresh air -- something he mildly regretted since the so-called ‘fresh air’ was cold as ice, despite the season.

However, he didn’t regret it TOO much, seeing as he found Dimitri at the balcony he had chosen.

Dimitri noticed Wolfram approaching and smiled softly. “Have you grown weary of the festivities already?”

“No way, there’s a lot more partying in me yet.” Wolfie giggled, then shook his head slightly. “But all that dancing upset the food in my stomach so I was just taking a walk. What about you, though? You’re the main character!”

“It’s not that I’ve grown weary,” Dimitri looked beyond the balcony, towards the brightly lit city below, “I just find it difficult to be around everyone at the moment. Being back here in the castle after so long compelled me to visit the graves of my loved ones. It’s been too long since I offered flowers, perhaps a full decade.”

“Oh,” Wolfie pressed his lips, allowing Dimitri his space to speak.

“But I cannot stay away from them any longer. I’ve chosen to live for myself, but that does not mean that I disregard the dead. It simply means that I will live all the life in me to atone for everything.”

Wolfram opened his mouth to contest; to say that he had nothing to atone for, not regarding the ones who died, but he stopped himself. He knew that this was a matter too heavy to approach for the moment; not to mention that Dimitri wanted to atone for his five years encroached in darkness as well, so Wolfie had no right to say anything in that regard.

Instead, he took a step towards Dimitri, took his hand and leaned his head on on the prince’s shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, did you know? When you stood there in front of the people and showed your emotions,” he felt Dimitri shift, as though embarrassed for having cried in front of so many people, “and vowed to be the best person you can be to them until you can handle it. You’re going great.”

Dimitri’s chin trembled with emotion as he feared that he would dissolve in tears for the second time that night. Speaking was difficult, and the words of thanks only came after many tries. “Thank you, Wolfram. Truly.”

Wolfie simply nodded, but before he could even reply, he heard hurried steps coming in their direction with his sensitive hearing. His head snapped up to where the sound was coming from, followed by Dimitri’s confused gaze.

Soon, however, Dimitri heard the steps as well.

“Your Highness, I finally found you!” A foot soldier gasped for breath. “There’s an express messenger from the Alliance at the parlor, it’s urgent!”

Startled, Dimitri exchanged hurried glances with Wolfram. “Very well, thank you for running all the way here. Lead me to him.”

Apparently, the Empire was about to strike Derdriu, so Claude had sent an express messenger asking for the Kingdom’s aid right as he felt the shift in the Empire’s forces. Wolfram truly respected Claude’s backbone -- to ask help of someone who had been his enemy in the previous battle, albeit a misplaced one, was a power move.

Regardless of how each of them felt about the situation, their morale was at an all-time high after retaking the capital. That being so, they headed to the Aquatic Capital with clear heads and firm arms.

As they travelled, they devised many strategies to be able to jump into action as soon as they arrived, but the one Byleth suggested the most seemed to be the one that they would find themselves in: from how the Professor read the battlefield and how much she knew Claude, they would most likely fight in a pincer attack.

Claude was planning on luring the Empire’s forces into his territory so Dimitri could strike them on the back and effectively wipe them out. Truly a power move; Wolfram’s respect for him grew even more.

He conveyed as much once they met on the battlefield while Wolfie served as a fast messenger as usual.

“Wolf, you haven’t changed at all! Or should I say that you changed just as much as I expected you would? Done with the amnesia act now?” Claude teased despite being out of breath for covering his allies with his arrows from above.

Laughing, the half manakete simply relayed the message, glad that Claude’s wit hadn’t disappeared even after half a decade.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel weird while fighting those people. He was basically moving back and forth to relay Byleth’s orders, but he still had to protect himself here and there, so he was involved in a skirmish or two.

They felt familiar, like enemies he had fought before… Or watched someone fight before. But where? Who was it? The battle was so chaotic he couldn’t even focus on pulling a memory from years ago.

Yet, despite Wolfram’s worry, the battle progressed much faster than anyone had expected once the Kingdom army arrived. Of course, a pincer attack was usually always a winning tactic so it was no wonder that Claude was confident in that strategy.

But the truly shocking part of that entire endeavor was not the battle itself, but the results after it was won: Claude had taken measures to merge the Alliance back into the Kingdom, solidifying a step into the unification of Fódlan by Dimitri instead of by what Edelgard had been trying to do for the past five years.

“I need to leave right away, so our reunion won’t be as long,” Claude had told them the night before he was set to board a ship to somewhere far away, “but when I come back, I wanna hear all of the juicy details, you hear?”

Wolfie giggled after accepting Claude’s stretched hand into a warm handshake that shared a promise to meet again, whenever their futures crossed. Wolfram wondered in passing if he would still be in this world whenever Claude returned, but somehow, he felt that regardless of how long it took, they would meet again, against all circumstances.

Merging the Alliance back into the Kingdom after hundreds of years of its independence was a surprising boon to their cause -- though it would mean many, many mountains of documents to sign and reports to read once things calmed down -- but there was still one step to take before they could bring the fight into the Empire’s territory: they had to retake Arianrhod, the Fortress City.

It was once the border between the Kingdom and the Empire, which was now being controlled by the imperial forces. Dimitri had to take it back to ensure that Fhirdiad would be safe while they breached into the Empire’s territory towards Enbarr.

The plan was to retake Arianrhod, mostly known as the Silver Maiden, right after reclaiming Faerghus, but Claude’s matter was more pressing, so the endeavor was pushed back. Now, however, it was their priority.

It was the final step to reclaiming all of Faerghus, especially now before the imperial forces inside it were strengthened.

The fortress resembled the Great Bridge of Myrddin, though it was certainly more focused on defense and entrapment than on attack. There were many demonic beasts guarding the devices that controlled the traps, but Wolfram was able to take on one of them all by himself.

In Fódlan, or at least in this world where Fódlan was located, there were many kinds of magic; many still that were innate to some people. Although Wolfram was an outlander, it wasn’t as though he didn’t have untapped magic inside of him; it was simply because there was no such practice in Archena.

Because of all of these factors, Wolfram was able to find a powerful kind of magic within him: one that he called ‘Naga’ in respect to his kind’s Mother. It was devastatingly effective against monsters of all kind, to the point that he was able to fry a demonic beast in one shot after using the magic. Though it was a one-use only magic, it was something that would be a tremendous help in the future.

“Holy shit!” Caspar yelled from beside Wolfram during the battle after seeing the scorched body of the beast fall to the ground. “What was that? Awesome!”

Even Byleth commented on it after Wolfie returned to her with a message. “So this was your innate magic. Is it common in your world? It’s powerful.”

“Heehee…” Wolfram laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know, honestly. I just felt a surge of power and used it. We don’t use innate magic where I’m from, so I don’t know if it’s common or not.”

“I see; interesting. I wish I could go there someday to perhaps teach more people about magic from this world.”

“Oh, that would be interesting! I know my Father would love to learn more about magic!” Wolfie giggled happily, gearing himself up again to deliver another message.

Just one more step… Just after conquering this fortress, they would finally be able to start their war against the Empire in earnest.

The next stop: Fort Merceus!

[webcricket]

Winter’s Eye

Pairing: AU!CastielXReader Word Count: 1510 (Ch. VI) Story Summary: Season 13 canon tells you how AU!Castiel’s story ends, this is how it begins. The deranged and damaged iteration of Castiel we met in the apocalypse universe - an obedient soldier to Michael’s cause barely in control of his vessel’s frayed and erratically firing nerves whose inherent kindness toward humankind appeared entirely obliterated - wasn’t always an unfeeling angelic weapon of interrogation. Once, he sympathized with the plight of humans; one, he loved. Outlined for 10 chapters. Chapter Summary: Castiel makes a fateful concession to your wishes - one which sets the tragic end of a love barely begun into motion.

Series Masterlist

VI.

“What are you doing?”

Castiel’s gruff voice grabs your attention from the task of tightly lacing a pair of men’s hiking boots you dug out of the cabin’s catch-all closet that are not unworkably big, but also not quite a comfy fit, to the querying slant of blues looming above where you’ve plopped yourself unceremoniously in the middle of the floor amid several mismatched moth-eaten woolen socks, also pilfered from the closet and meant to bulk up the smallish size of your feet.

“Going with you.” Shrugging, you look back down without waiting to witness his reaction and yank at the left lace so hard you grunt at the exertion. Sticking out your foot to rotate mid-air, you test the balance of flexibility and firmness of the fit; satisfied, you lash the surplus of lace thrice round your ankle before tying a double knot.

He says nothing; he doesn’t have to, the weight of silence speaks as to his disapproval of the idea.

You expected as much which is the reason you waited until the very last moment to spring the plan on him lest he change up his regimental routine in order to sneak off before you could follow.

In the margins of your sight you watch his gloved hands wad into loose fists - a reflexive clutch at some unspoken argument against your joining him on a supply run slipping from his grasp. Supplies you think it only fair you assist in obtaining seeing as, because angels don’t eat, they’re solely for your sustenance.

He knows you fully capable of waging an extended war without words, and that such a skirmish leads to a stalemate. He also knows the hours of daylight are limited, and even for an angelic being and all his advantage of power and advanced perception, traveling the woods by light, rather than night, means less risk of running into obstacles.

Apocalypse, or no, those abominations born of the dark persist in their favor of dark habits much as this particular angel prefers to walk in the light.

He remarks in a slowly cadenced matter-of-fact mutter - not a straight admonishment, but a deeply measured urge for you to reconsider - his opinion on your proposal. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Why not?” Without peering up to acknowledge his worry, you shift to work to securing the right lace. You don’t allow time for him to expound, blithely adding, “What? You afraid if you teach me to fish I won’t need you around anymore?”

The bit about being needed strikes him mute, unsteadies the readied retort poised on his tongue regarding the dubious safety of a 15-mile trek through woods into the outskirts of a town whose previous inhabitants were mutilated by wolves of the mutated ‘Were-‘ kind.

The fact is, he needs you, needs the sense purpose you provide, and it’s become clear to him your ability to survive depends less and less on his contributions to domesticity with each passing day. So yeah, a piece of him - the shadow of doubt dimming both the inner radiance of divine grace and his gaze – gives in to a paralytic pause as a terror of losing whatever this is seizes him in stillness.

You glance up to see him go rigid; a twang of guilt tickles your conscience.

You keep forgetting he doesn’t get sarcasm. The other night, while regaling you with the real dung-heavy story behind the Tower of Babel, you’d told him, in a fit of disbelief, to ‘Get out!’ and he actually stood up to leave.

More than forgetting he fails to grasp the often multi-layered nuances of conversation - and more and more - you forget he’s an angel. His divinity exists somewhere separate from his daily kindnesses toward you, how he manages to make you smile without meaning to, and how the cabin feels warmer with him in it in a manner that has nothing at all to do with the timber he fells for the fire; to you, he’s become just Cas.

The thought paints your cheeks faintly pink and you swipe the sensation from your skin with a blanching press of your fingertips.

“Relax. It’s a joke, Castiel.” Planting a palm to the pine planks you push to a standing position. “You know, the biblical proverb. ‘If you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime.’”

His blues narrow. “That’s not a proverb.”

“Really?”

He doesn’t deign to respond to your doubt as to his scriptural knowledge. Moving only his eyes, he glances over your shoulder out at the brightening sky beyond the window; its brilliance amplifies in reflection off the fresh blanket of white laid upon the land overnight; the purity of it is deceiving, and time is wasting. “You would be out in the open. Exposed. It might not be safe.”

“What I’m hearing is there’s an equal chance then it might be perfectly safe. And how exposed can I be with an angel at my back? I’m going with. If I have to spend one more day staring at these log walls and your frowny face-” however handsome that pout happens to be, your brain embellishes the complaint- “I’m gonna go stir crazy.”

“I don’t frown.” The expression he insists isn’t a frown quavers at the accusation and digs deeper into the lines trenching his mouth.

A snort of laughter flares your nostrils. “Well you don’t smile either. Like, ever.” Brushing past him, you grab your coat from the hook mounted beside the door and shove an arm into the Sherpa-lined sleeve. Spinning to see what’s taking him so long to join you at the door, you stop the upsurge of a chortle climbing your throat at the affected smile baring his clamped teeth.

“What-” you cover the smirk fracturing your face with the back of your hand- “what are you doing?”

“Smiling,” he says without wavering from what looks more like a wince than joy.

“Don’t … just, stop. You look like you’re in pain.”

Chin cocking sideways, the feint at gladness fades from his features. “You said-”

“Look-” you move a step nearer, extending a reassuring touch and shyly withdrawing before the fingertips make contact with his coat lapels- “a smile is more than a collection of muscle movements - it’s a feeling. You can’t force it, Cas.”

Cas.

You catch each other’s stunned regard over the abbreviation of his name hanging in the space between you and quickly avert your eyes.

Your blush renews at the relinquishment of the privately cultivated sentimentality shown in the affectionate shortening whose meaning you haven’t entirely explored in your mind.

He likes the sound of it, soft and sweet like the honeysuckle scent carried on a summer breeze and the gentle buzz of a bee balancing on the petals of a flower to drink of its nectar; he feels the nickname - the familiarity and fondness it bears - twitch and tug at the fibrous set of his frown to loosen some of the gravity of experience sunk there.

Inhaling a shallow breath, you dare to peer up into the bright blue enamel of his eyes, appreciating immediately the tempering effect on him of the endearment you hadn’t meant to speak aloud but which spilled from your lips as naturally as the first rays of the sun splinter the horizon of a new morn.

You figure, why not wield it to your advantage … just this once. “C’mon, Cas.” You stretch the vowel out in a persuasive purr. “We better get going.”

It slackens, too, his resolve against the scheme.

A scream of ‘Stop!’ pounds dumbly at his perception through the unchangeable span of time into the deafened recesses of remembrance - the desperate warning shouts in his own voice over the wet whine of a drill bit biting into flesh and memory.

He watches through a stained-glass blur of stinging red ooze the vision of the cabin door swinging open and the spin of a bleached world beyond churning you and his heart together out into the void; a groaned plea rumbles his ribs, yet the caution fails to pierce his past awareness.

Tears blend blindingly with the steady steep of blood breaching his lashes.

This is where it all went wrong. This is where he failed. This is where he forfeited himself for a fleeting taste of a happiness meant for humanity alone and put you and every other soul still walking the Earth – souls he swore to protect - in peril.

He shouts again to no avail.

Naomi switches off the drill; she steps back, gratified hum in her throat, to admire her handiwork of emotional excavation. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” She gestures at another angel standing sentinel in the hall of Heaven’s interrogation center. “Return him to his cell. Then inform Michael I’ve found Castiel’s weak point. It won’t be long before he reveals the location of the resistance and we can put them down permanently.”

Next Chapter: VII

[sushiobsessedwriter]

He Starts to Notice His Feelings- Akatsuki

Pein: Pein is an extremely clever man, therefore, when he started to notice his heart race, his stomach flutter with metaphorical butterflies, and the grin on his face when he thought you of you, he knew exactly what it meant. Yet, he couldn't tell you. Your smile would always stop him short, your eyes twinkling in his office light, your hand carefully clasping his when you relay your ideas. Despite being smart, Pein had absolutely no idea what to do or say. He created numerous scenarios in which he told you but they were all either too cliche or just didn't sound right. You were also an intelligent woman so, when he gave up on telling you he just assumed you knew so he went back to acting as normal, ignoring the beat of his heart when you looked at him. Itachi: You and Itachi were both in your usual position: your calves strewn over his lap, books in your hands and his fingers absently playing with the fabric of your trousers. However, Itachi was unable to focus on the words before him. Your warmth made its way through him and the smell of your perfume attacked his nose. He was so distracted by you that he spared a few glances in your direction. You were the complete opposite to him, your eyes and mind completely engrossed in your book. Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you turned the page, your eyes alight in fascination. Yet, all Itachi could think was how he wanted to pull you fully onto his lap and brush his fingers over your furrowed brow, just to see your eyes look into his whether that be in confusion or as you sent him a small grin. His eyes widened marginally and he removed his eyes from you and back to his book. THAT was a new development.

Kisame: When it came to talking about his feelings Kisame was surprisingly not all that open about it. You tried to get him to open up more but he often turned into a blushing mess and would quickly change the subject. That didn't stop you from being affectionate toward him though. Your lips would constantly visit his cheek when you were happy which he thought would be the death of him. His heart would skip a beat when you were near him and any thought of you would bring a shark-like grin to his face. It was when you had beaten him at a set of laps and you swam over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek in victory. He stood stark still in the water, his eyes wide as a school of fish swam around his abdomen. You didn't notice his strange behaviour as you went on to practice you handstands. His facial expression didn't change as his chest swelled and the fish swam faster, his eyes focused on you. Was he... In love with you? Hidan: Hidan did everything loudly and over the top so when the two of you laughed it was a spectacular sight to see. You were both practically falling over one another trying to breathe through your laughter. You had just told Hidan about your most recent mission and about an arms dealer you met. The situations you told him about caused him to burst into laughter, therefore causing you to follow suit. You spent a good five minutes laughing non-stop and whilst your laughter died to giggles, Hidan turned on his side to face you. You found yourselves on the floor but the ecstatic feeling in HIdan's chest caused him not to care. You stared up at the ceiling giggling to yourself so you failed to notice Hidan's furrowed brow and frown. Why did his chest feel so light? Why was his breathing ragged, was it from the laughter? He groaned in realisation and turned onto his back as well. It was then that you turned to face him, a smile adorning your face with your eyes alight in mirth. He glanced over at you and groaned again with his hand rubbing down his face. 'Fucking hell,' he thought 'I actually like her.'  Kakuzu: Kakuzu was quite a mysterious man, most of his face hidden when you see him, so when he was the one to start the conversation that had nothing to do with money or bounties you nearly fell over your feet.... and you were sitting. He wouldn't ever tell you but the sound your voice actually made his chest swell so he'd sometimes initiate the conversation just to hear it. He was a man of few words but when you spoke to him he felt the need to respond in kind and with haste lest you think he wasn't interested. Even when he counted his money you would make small talk with him or simply tell him about your day. He realised just how much you meant to him when you were on a mission. A shinobi from the Leaf had gone for one of his hearts but you had quickly put an end to that, knocking the man away from him with a cocky smirk. It was the way you held yourself, the way you selflessly protected him that made his cheeks flare beneath his mask and butterflies to swarm inside him. Kakuzu huffed when you faced him with that smirk and glared half-heartedly at you. Damn you for making him like you so much. Sasori: Sasori had supposedly gotten rid of all human emotion when he turned himself into a puppet. When you discovered this news you were both shocked and determined. You vowed to get him to show you some emotion other than a blank stare. Therefore, you tried tickling him, stealing his puppets and hiding them, you even outright insulted his artwork but still, nothing. However, when you unintentionally started hanging out with Deidara more and learning about his artwork, Sasori snapped. He saw red as he stormed over to you and pulled you into his workshop. You were confused to say the least but the anger in his eyes and the growl that bubbled in his chest said it all: you managed to make THE Sasori jealous. When you pointed that fact out he outright refused and went back to work, but what you didn't know, was that the thought of him pulling you to his chest and protecting you from the world ran through his head. Perhaps the puppet was capable of another emotion. Deidara: Deidara was in love with you, he knew that, everyone knew that... everyone but you. When he told you had a new detonating clay he wanted to show you, you jumped at the chance to see it so he took you to an open clearing and sat you down. You sent him a dazzling smile and practically bounced in your seat as you waited for the explosion. He set up the clay and stood at the other end of the clearing. However, when the explosion went off you barely had a chance to catch its beauty before you were blown backwards and into the woods. Deidara called your name and rushed to your side only to find you laughing your ass off. The relief on his face was blinding and his heart hammered in his chest at the thought of losing you. It was at that moment, as you placed your hand on his cheek to ease his worry, your e/c eyes staring into his, that he realised how crazy he was about you. Tobi: Tobi knew he liked you from the moment he met you (cliche yes, but true). In the dumpling shop you weren't afraid of him, you ignored your friends and sent him a cute wave which made him ecstatic. He was so infatuated by you that he had to tell you that you took his breath away, but instead it came out as "Tobi thinks you look pretty." He had given up hope right then and there but the way you scrunched up your nose and the polite thank you he received made his mistake worth it. Even though he wore a mask voluntarily, he wished you could see the dazzling grin he sent you when you laughed, or screwed up your face when something he cooked would just a tad too salty. He wished you could see how happy you made him just by being around him.  Tobi is infatuated with you, and has  been since the second he laid eyes on you. Zetsu: Zetsu had convinced you to go camping with him so he could show you the beautiful waterfall he found the day before. You were hesitant at first but when you saw the argument that was about to cause you agreed to one night of camping. It was while you were asleep on the other side of the tent that Zetsu began to ponder why exactly he wanted you to accompany him. You fell asleep shortly after your head hit the pillow and moved quite a bit in your sleep. This allowed Zetsu to have a full view of your peaceful face as he thought. He fiddled with his robe as he thought on his feelings for you. The white side was sweet, saying it was the way you looked at them and the way you treated them as your equal, whilst the black side claimed he felt this way due to your body and looks. However, when the white side came to conclusion that how they felt about you was akin to love, the black side did nothing but agree, a soft smirk on his face.

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If you like this then please buy me a coffee.

[evielynfic]

Restraint

PART ONE OF THE “RE” SERIES RATING: MA FANDOM(S): Teen Wolf PAIRING(S): Derek Hale/OC SUMMARY: Derek has been bitten by an unknown supernatural, so the pack has no choice but to lock him up in case the venom from the bite has adverse effects on him. Sophie stays with her best friend to keep an eye on him and keep him company. Sophie just thought her Friday night was going to be boring.

A/N: Hey, guys! Here is my latest story featuring Derek Hale. This is an idea I had one day that I couldn’t help but write. While the creature is not identified yet, you may be able to guess what it is. With that said, I’ve added my own twist to the creature, so it definitely has added traits to it to fit the plot more. Due to the nature of the plot, this story is definitely on the mature side.

While there is an original character, this can be read as an imagine. That was my idea when I initially started writing it, but I prefer to write in third person. I didn’t delve into Sophie’s character too deeply, so you can imagine her how you want to. I imagined her as being played by Nora Arnezeder if you would like a visual. Her age isn’t mentioned, but she’s a year or two younger than Derek. It’s set about a year after Season 3A, but Derek is still an Alpha.

Please excuse any errors because I’m sure there are plenty and this was not beta’d.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, nor any of the characters. All characters belong to Jeff Davis, except for Sophie, who belongs to me. This story contains mature and sexual content/situations, so read at your own risk.

Warnings: Dominant!Alpha Derek, lots of smut, and swearing. 

Restraint

"Come on, Soph."  

Sophie tuned out the pleading voice behind her, keeping her focus on the textbook on the table in front of her and the pencil in her hand. She had been sitting there in the same spot for nearly three hours, trying to complete her homework while she had nothing better to do except ignore the man in the room with her.  

She had not intended to spend her night holed up in an abandoned building in the creepiest part of town, but Sophie had been convinced to watch a sour werewolf who had been bitten by a supernatural creature that remained a mystery. The bite had been quick, but was deep on his forearm and had grimy blackish-green liquid dribbling out of the wound. Sophie tried her best to block out the image of the creature attacking her best friend. It had taken off before Derek could even think about retaliating.

The bite wound had healed like any other injury, but Deaton had suggested to keep the younger Hale confined until they could figure out what had bitten him. What hadn't surprised Sophie was that Derek had readily agreed to go into the cell, lest he attack anyone if the bite or venom did have any ill effects. Hours had passed, and it seemed even Derek had limits on patience.  

"Please let me out, Sophie. I have no symptoms, and it's been hours," Derek tried to reason as he leaned on the bars of the steel cell he had been locked in, a straining noise sounding from his weight.

Sophie turned her head toward the Alpha for the first time in a few hours, her eyes studying him to make sure he wasn't lying. She could see the sweat glistening on his skin and various spots on the tank top he wore, but she had also been sweating a bit from the poor ventilation in the building. Derek didn't seem any different to her, and she was one of the few people who had been allowed to see Derek past his tough exterior and thick walls to know if he was actually affected or not.  

She sighed and set her pencil down on her notebook, slowly turning around on the chair that she had found just as the gang left her and Derek in the building. She remembered Scott's words playing in her head as he had taken her aside and talked her into staying with Derek.  

"You're the one he's closest to. If something were to happen, he most likely won't hurt you. He also saved your life—again."  

Sophie had agreed after hearing the younger Alpha's words, not that she had needed a lot of convincing in the first place. If Derek did attack her, she would be defenseless against him as a measly human, despite the fact that he had taught her to defend herself even after turning down his offer to receive the bite. While the rest of the pack were some of her closest friends, Derek had become like the older brother she had never had over the past couple of years.

After Derek lost Boyd and Erica and was betrayed by Jennifer in the most despicable way over a year ago, she could always sense the loneliness and guilt that Derek carried with him, even though he hid it well. With Cora and Isaac out of the country and Peter doing his own thing, she had stayed close to Derek, never giving up on him no matter how many times he had tried pushing her away.  

Sophie also knew that had she not been out in the woods in the dark by herself, they wouldn't be in the situation they were at that moment. She was just waiting for Derek to point that out to her.  

"You know, just because you seem like Derek doesn't mean I'm going to let you out," Sophie replied finally. "Deaton warned me not to open the door until they came back with something substantial or called to let me know it was fine."  

"Well, at least stop ignoring me. Do I look like someone who would hurt you? I didn't ask to get bitten by some unknown entity." Derek raised his brows. "Besides, if I really wanted to get out of here, don't you think I could without much effort and would have already?"  

His arms were threaded through the bars, his weight heavy against the door as he leaned almost lazily against it. She didn’t doubt that he could easily break out of the cell if he really so desired. Deaton had claimed it was made of reinforced steel, but it looked like it had seen better days with rust covering nearly every inch of it.  

The building they were in was off by itself on the edge of town, and she didn't bother asking what they had done there before its demise. She had wondered how Deaton had known about the place before pushing the question out of her thoughts. Although it looked every bit like a dirty, abandoned building with dust covering nearly every inch from disuse, it had a fully functioning bathroom and shower that looked less grimy than the rest of it.  

Sophie blew out a breath and stood up off the chair. "Fine," she relented as she closed the short distance between them and stood at the cell door. She mirrored his stance, leaning opposite him on the steel door only a few feet away from where he stood. "How are you feeling, really?"  

"I told you, I feel fine," Derek reassured her, his green eyes meeting her blue ones.  

"To be honest, I turned my back to you because I hate seeing you locked up like this," Sophie admitted, lowering her eyes to the grungy concrete floor.  

"It's not the first time, and won't be the last, I'm sure," he replied, watching her. "How are you doing?"  

Sophie met his gaze again, not at all surprised that he would be worried about her well-being. "I'm good," she answered with a small smile. "Thanks to you."  

"Why were you even out, anyway?" Derek asked curiously. "I know that you're a night owl, but you should know better than to be out alone at night in this town."

Sophie sighed. "I know, it was stupid. I just needed to clear my head after he had called, so I went for a run. I didn’t want to bother anyone."  

Derek sensed her frustration and sadness, anger coursing through his body at the thought of her ex contacting her. "What did the douche want this time?"  

"He wanted to meet up this weekend. His excuse was that he hadn't seen me in months, and we needed to catch up," Sophie explained, staring at the wall a few feet in front of her at the back of the cell.  

"Tell me that you didn't agree to it," Derek returned through gritted teeth.  

"Hell no," Sophie retorted. "Ben only wants one thing—he always has. He's probably between girls and thinks he can use me as his booty call."  

"You deserve so much more than that piece of shit," Derek responded, digging his nails into his palms to try to stifle his anger.  

"I know," Sophie responded, glancing in his direction before looking back down at the floor.  

"You should have called sooner. It could have been you in this cell instead of me," he admitted finally, moving closer to her so that their arms were touching. "I would have gone out with you. You never have to worry about bothering me."

"I know, I should have, Der. I wasn't thinking. He makes me so crazy because he knows exactly what to say to draw me back in, even if it's just a for a fleeting moment. And then, I hate myself for even considering it."  

"Don't let him get to you," Derek replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing it in a comforting gesture. "Please don’t hate yourself. Trust me, it won't do you any good."

Sophie smiled, squeezing Derek's hand in return.  

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Sophie checked her phone to see if she had received any texts from the gang. She wasn't completely surprised that she hadn't since they had virtually nothing to go on except the small sample of venom that Deaton had gotten from Derek’s arm after the bite had healed.  

"Are you hungry?" Sophie asked, mulling over the few options they had to choose from in town. "I mean, it's nearly midnight, but I can go pick something up if you want."  

"I could eat, but there aren't going to be many options at this hour," Derek pointed out.  

"I can text Scott to see if his mom can make something and have it brought over," Sophie suggested, pulling up her friend on her phone. "I think she's off tonight."  

"If you think she'll do that, go ahead," Derek responded, shifting against the door. 

It was about forty-five minutes later when Sophie received another text from Scott to let her know that they were outside with the food.  

"Stiles and Scott are outside," Sophie informed her temporary roommate. "I'm going to go run out and grab the food since a bad storm is heading this way. They're not afraid to face all kinds of deadly creatures, but God forbid they get caught in a thunderstorm." She couldn't help but smile at the dramatic eye roll she received from her friend.

She placed her phone on the table beside her things before beginning to make her way out of the building. She wasn't completely lying about the storm since there was one headed their way, but she had wanted to speak with the two boys to see if there were any updates. Sophie knew Derek would most likely overhear them if he wanted to, anyway.

"Okay, I'll just wait here," Derek responded dryly as he watched her retreating figure disappear through the door.  

Sophie jogged out to the jeep that held two of her friends as they rolled down the passenger side window. Scott held out a large brown paper bag to her before handing her another larger duffle bag that she placed on her shoulder.  

"Thanks for coming, guys," Sophie said as she leaned against the metal door of the powder blue Jeep. "And for getting all this."  

"No problem. How's he holding up?" Scott asked curiously, his brows knitting together.  

"He seems like himself," Sophie answered honestly.  

"Oh, nice and grumpy, huh?" Stiles chimed in with a side smirk.  

She shook her head, ignoring the jab. "If the venom has adverse symptoms, he's not showing any. I don't get why we have to keep him locked up."

"Deaton said the signs could take a while, depending on the type of venom. I called him on the way over, and he's still running tests on the sample," Scott responded, a frown etched on his face. "I don't like keeping him locked up, either, but until we know for sure, Derek needs to stay here."  

Sophie nodded with a sigh. "I know, I'll just keep playing babysitter," she joked, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I'm just a junior in college who has nothing better to do on a Friday night." Her voice was thickly laced with sarcasm, but it was well known that sarcasm was one of her coping mechanisms.

"Hey, we know it's not easy for you to see him like this," Scott commented with sympathy in his brown eyes. "We also know you're blaming yourself."  

"Yeah, we know how much you care about him," Stiles added in a quiet voice with a similar look, his features more serious than before.  

Sophie met both of their knowing glances, but didn't respond. When a clap of thunder sounded in the distance, she pushed herself off the door before beginning to walk backwards a few steps. "Thanks again for bringing us food and other necessities."  

"No problem," they replied in unison.  

Sophie gave them a small smile, turning to head back into the building before the storm hit.  

"Hey, Soph," Scott called out to her.  

She stopped and turned around toward them once again. "Yeah?"  

"Be careful and contact us immediately if anything changes."  

"Will do," she responded before jogging back into the building as the thunder sounded again, much louder than before.  

After she had gotten a few feet into the building, the sky seemed to open up and released a heavy downpour. She glanced up at the roof as she continued further into the building, thankful that it seemed to be without any significant holes. As she entered the interior room where Derek was being kept, she adjusted the duffle bag on her shoulder to keep it from slipping and peeked into the paper bag to see what food they had.  

"Oh, sweet, Melissa gave us some lasagna. It is to die for," Sophie began as she set the food down on one side of the chair. She also set the duffle bag down on the chair and began to rifle through it. "They also grabbed some clothes and toiletries for us, just in case. The most important of those things—toilet paper."

Digging through the bag, she saw some of her own clothes along with some of Derek's, two toothbrushes, a tube of toothpaste, deodorant, soap, shampoo, two towels, and the aforementioned rolls of toilet paper. After digging some more to see if there was anything else in the bag, she found a box, her eyebrow raising in confusion. She pulled the box out of the bag enough, noticing the note stuck to it written in familiar handwriting.  

It never hurts to be prepared!

She removed the note so that she could read the label of the box before she quickly dropped it back in the bag, like the offending thing had burned her. Magnum condoms, she thought to herself. I am going to kill them.  

"Hey, Derek, are you still with me?" Sophie asked, hoping the blush on her face and the catch in her throat weren't obvious.

Glancing up finally toward the cell after not hearing a word from the younger Hale, Sophie froze at what she saw. The cell door was bent into an indecipherable shape that looked more like origami than a door as the object hung loosely on its hinges. The small cell was empty, which both worried and frightened her a bit. Her eyes quickly darted around the room for the Alpha as she began to reach for her phone that she had left on the table.  

"Der?" She called out tentatively, trying to steady her voice.  

She felt a wave of great unease run through her the longer he went without answering and when she realized her phone was gone, quickly shuffling through her messenger bag that she had set on the floor by the table. She didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, it was not good.

"Looking for something?" A smooth, deep voice rang out from a shadowed corner of the room.  

Sophie froze once again, realization dawning on her that Derek had taken her phone. She swallowed before standing to her feet, turning to face the corner where the voice originated from as she noticed glowing red eyes staring back at her. As he stepped forward out of the darkness into the faint light that was in the room, he held up the device she had been searching for in his hand before crushing it effortlessly.  

She watched as he let the remains fall out of his hand onto the floor. Sophie then noticed that he was still inching toward her, as if stalking his prey. Whatever was going on had to be from the venom in his system. She normally wouldn’t be afraid of Derek, even when he was a fully transformed, but the Derek in front of her sent a chill down her spine. He wore an almost sinister look as his lips curled into a smirk that reminded her a lot of Peter, only worse.  

She hadn't realized she had been backing away from him, inching slowly closer to the door to the room until her back hit a wall. It was soon clear that she would never make it to that door.  

"Why are you so scared, Soph?" Derek asked, sensing her fear mounting as he neared her. "It's your best friend, Derek." Even his voice sounded off, a hint of devilish intent with a captivating edge to it.  

"I'm not," she insisted, knowing it was a lie they both saw through.  

When he suddenly closed the distance between them, she let out a gasp as he blocked her in against the wall, each arm caging her in place on either side. His eyes were all but daring her to try to run as they remained their brilliant red color.  

"I know you're not going to hurt me, Derek," Sophie remarked confidently.  

"You sound so sure of that," he responded, dipping his lips against her ear.  

His voice sent a shiver down her spine as his hot breath fanned her face. She swallowed to try to re-wet her dry throat before she placed her hands on the hard planes of his chest to move him away from her. Even though she was using all of her strength, she soon gave up since it was like trying to move a mountain. She hadn't moved him an inch, and her efforts seemed to spur him on further as he moved closer.  

"You don't really want me to move, do you?" Derek asked, his voice husky in her ear. "I can tell you don't; you like having me close. In fact, I think you like it a lot."  

"Derek, please don't," she pleaded, knowing he could usually read her like an open book when she let him.  

Sophie had always been afraid that he would figure out what she felt for him by her smell and feelings, so she tried her best to stay as guarded around him as possible. Scott had easily picked up on it months ago, but Derek had never even alluded to knowing her secret.  

"Don't what?" He asked as if he was oblivious. He ran his nose down her neck, breathing in her scent and chemosignals that radiated off her skin.  

"This isn't you, Der," Sophie tried reasoning, meeting his blazing eyes.  

"Oh, but is it, sweetheart," he responded in a sickly-sweet voice. "I'm the Alpha. I make the decisions here." He further emphasized his point by molding his body to hers, allowing her to feel every hard inch of him.  

"I'm not your Beta, Derek," she commented, trying to sound confident, but her voice was betraying her.  

"I can easily fix that," he challenged, running his fanged teeth over her pulse point.  

When Derek ran a hand over her cheek and trailed it down her neck slowly but surely, leaving her skin scorching, she couldn't help the whimper that fell from her lips. His smirk should have frightened her to the bone, but it didn't.  

"What do you want?" She found herself asking before she had even realized it.

"I think you already know the answer to that," he replied in a softer voice with the seductive edge still present as he ran his hands down her sides slowly. "Don't you feel it?"  

Part of her thought Derek was referring to the hard bulge straining in his jeans against her lower abdomen, but then the other part knew better. Sophie knew he was referring to the electricity hanging in the air between them. She didn't know how, but she did feel something. A familiar pull was urging her forward, the one she had felt drawing her to him since they had met.  

She closed her eyes then, chewing on her bottom lip as he continued to brush his lips and elongated teeth over her skin. Sophie tried to keep her body from reacting to his closeness and touch, but it wasn't working very well.  

"This is the venom in your system," Sophie stated finally, her voice nearly gone. "It's making you do this."  

“The venom may be fueling what's already there, but my actions are definitely my own," Derek insisted, his hands trailing back up her sides.  

"What do you mean?" She asked, opening her eyes and meeting his bright red ones.  

Derek remained quiet for a moment before running his tongue languidly over his lips and teeth as he raked his eyes over her trembling body before him. One might think that it stemmed from fear, but he sensed that that had been overcome by the desire that hung heavy in the air.  

"Isn't it obvious, or do you need a not-so-little hint?"  

When she didn't answer immediately, he bucked his hips against hers in quick succession, eliciting a moan from her at the action as his meaning hit her like a ton of bricks. Sophie couldn't stop the pull in her lower belly if she wanted to then, not that she even had the will or strength to stop the familiar feeling forming between her legs.  

She noticed as he took in a deep breath, the resulting noise filling her ears as a deep, guttural growl sounded from deep within Derek's throat. It was like something had taken over him then, more than it already had, his features becoming even more feral than before as he eyed her hungrily.  

When the claws on his thumbs flicked over her breasts, the sharp, jagged edges easily finding her already pert nipples through her thin shirt and bra, Sophie couldn't help the loud moan that came out of her mouth. The act caused her to arch her back towards him and sent shockwaves straight to her already dampening core. She moaned his name then when he repeated the action once more, causing him to react even more as he tore her shirt and bra, pulling the ruined fabric from her body.  

She gripped his tank top as he began hungrily kissing and nipping down her neck, his hips digging into hers and his hands kneading, pinching, and squeezing her bare breasts as all sense and reason seeped further out of his mind. He soon discarded the shirt he wore, ripping it off his body as the need to feel her skin against his own heightened. He felt a shudder run down him as soon he felt the slight satisfaction at feeling her breasts pushed against his hard chest, but he soon wanted more.  

"Fuck," Derek growled out.  

Sophie writhed against him as she felt her high building, feeling a sense of calm envelope her as he wrapped his arms around her half-naked body. When his lips finally met hers in a searing kiss, she felt her knees nearly buckle from the amount of passion and want behind it. He must have felt her weakness because the next thing she knew, he had scooped her up into his strong arms, his hips grinding against her with a purpose.  

"Derek," Sophie begged between kisses, her senses overwhelming her.

He took her pleading words to heart as he moved them away from the wall then, carrying her swiftly to the table in the middle of the room. Derek quickly and roughly shoved everything off the surface, sending her textbooks, papers that contained her notes, and pencil flying every which way onto the floor. He set her down on the surface, quickly fitting himself between her legs once again as he pulled her to the very edge of the table against him.  

Sophie ran her hands down over the hard muscles of his back and chest as he reconnected their mouths, as if he hadn't just been kissing her into oblivion. She shuddered at the power emanating from underneath his skin as her hands trailed down to the waistband of jeans. She found herself becoming impatient as she made quick work of the button and zipper before pushing them down his legs to the floor. He quickly toed off his shoes and socks before kicking the offending item of clothing out of his way.  

Derek broke their kiss then, eyeing her heavily with intent as he stood in just a pair of boxer briefs that did little to hide his arousal. He pulled off her sneakers and socks, tossing them behind him before he began to slowly undo her jeans. She leaned back on the dusty table, picking her butt up a bit to allow him to yank the fabric from her legs.  

Sophie stared at him then as he stood in front of her before she began rubbing and gently squeezing the massive bulge in his underwear. He gave her an appreciative growl as he watched her intently before he needed the confining material gone and nearly ripped it from his body. Sophie stared even more than before, the size of him sending both apprehension through her body and more shockwaves to her center.  

She had seen Derek shirtless plenty of times, but had never had the privilege of seeing him fully naked before. Sophie found that she wasn't surprised to find him so well endowed; he was an Alpha, after all. But even before he became an Alpha, she had had an idea at his size from her curious and inconspicuous glances at the bulge she often found in his jeans.  

"See something you like," Derek remarked with a smirk, his deep voice full of seduction and pride.  

Sophie noticed how he had phrased his words as a statement instead of a question, confidence dripping from his voice. She nodded her head to answer him anyway, almost as if the action had been instinctive. She didn't know when Derek's wolf had come so close to the surface, but she couldn't help but notice from the deep register of his voice. The sound of it made her even wetter than she already was. The only thing missing was the fur and wolf-like features on his face.

She somehow tore her eyes away from his magnificent form and met his heady gaze once again. As she did so, Sophie noticed as he slowly reclaimed his earlier position between her legs, instinctively spreading them to fit his massive form as he ran his hands over her thighs.  

Sophie swallowed at his touch. She needed some of kind of relief, the ache continuing to grow between her legs the longer he stood there. She bit her lip, carefully running her hand over his length as he released a groan from her touch. She ran her fingers over the head, spreading the dripping fluid over him before she moved her hand away from him.  

He looked at her with disappointment, clearly wanting her to continue. When she blatantly ran the same hand over her soaked panties teasingly, he couldn't help but take her up on her suggestion. Derek ran his fingers slowly over the seam of her panties between her core and thigh briefly before slipping a claw underneath and pulling the loose gray cotton fabric to one side.  

Derek nearly lost it when he finally saw her dripping core bared to him. He had spent many a night fantasizing about her naked and writhing beneath him when he laid awake in bed. He slowly dipped a finger between her folds, running a slow stripe up as his claw ran gently over her clit. He couldn't help but smirk wickedly as his movements elicited a loud moan from her lips, and as she arched her body into him. He instantly felt his dick twitch and throb the more he thought about how she reacted to him.  

When she felt the loss of contact as he pulled his hand from her core, Sophie watched him, biting her lip as she pleaded with him to put them both out of their misery. She leaned back then on her hands, scooting back on the table some more as she placed her feet up onto the wooden surface and reclined back so she was almost laying down, her look beckoning him. She didn’t care that she could feel the dust and dirt stick to her slick skin and hair.  

Derek read her loud and clear and knew exactly what she wanted him to do as she stared at him with want. He lithely climbed onto the table that was just long enough for them. He wasn't quite sure it would hold both of them, but he didn't care as his mind focused on one thing. As he settled over top of her, his lips found hers once again in a passionate kiss. His teeth had probably nicked her skin in the frenzy, but he could sense that she was in no pain.  

Sophie pulled him further down on top of her so there was no space between them before she boldly grabbed hold of his length in her hand and ran it over her soaked heat. At her action, he lost any sense of reasoning he had left and quickly buried himself inside her to the hilt. His claws dug into the table on either side of them at the feeling of her wrapped deliciously around his length finally, hugging him as if she had been made just for him.  

"Shit," Sophie nearly screamed at the sudden intrusion. While she wasn't a virgin, she knew Derek's size was going to stretch her well beyond what she had been accustomed to previously.  

Derek didn't wait but a few moments before he began his thrusts, instantly reaching depths that she hadn't even realized were possible. His movements were fast and rough, but not enough to send anything but immense pleasure soaring through her. If his continued growls were any indication, she knew his wolf had all but taken over him as he continued to plow into her.  

He soon buried his face into her neck, the action causing her to bare it to him in quick submission. His lips, teeth, and tongue kissed, licked, and nipped at her neck, leaving bruises on her skin as if to show everyone that she was his. Sophie quickly decided she would let Derek do whatever he wanted to at that point, finding herself at his complete mercy as she ran her nails down the slick skin of his back that caused him to growl even louder.  

"Who's your Alpha?" She heard him ask between nips on her skin.  

"You are," she immediately replied as if by instinct, even though she wasn't a werewolf.  

"That's right, you're mine," he stated, his wolf's voice wrecked as he continued his movements.  

Sophie writhed beneath him, realizing she had been matching his movements for some time. As Derek began to get rougher with his thrusts as his release neared, the table soon began to creak underneath the weight and movement. Sophie soon felt the immediate loss of contact when he slipped out of her before barreling back in, repeating the process over and over.  

She felt her release climbing the more he did that, but when Derek began to massage her throbbing clit, Sophie soon found herself coming undone from the added pressure on her sensitive bud. She held in a scream as he quickened his thrusts to help her ride out her orgasm, slapping of skin and the creak of the table beneath them filling her ears.

A few moments later, the table gave way beneath them, sending them to the floor. Derek didn't even falter one bit as he continued to pound into her relentlessly with wood splintered around them. He picked up her hips a bit, changing the angle to allow himself to go deeper into her, the action spurring yet another build-up in her lower abdomen. His assault on her clit hadn't stopped, despite her falling over the edge, but his intentions were obvious that he wanted to drive her to another orgasm.  

Sophie kissed him hungrily, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging as the other gripped his shoulder. He must have liked her actions because Derek continued on, biting her bottom lip and tugging on it gently with his teeth. She felt his claws digging into the skin of her lower back as he held her up some in his hands, but it wasn’t enough to be painful.  

She knew they were both close as she felt her walls closing around him again and his thrusts became erratic and desperate, urging them both to let go. The grunts Derek released with each movement was a telltale sign that sent shivers down her spine. He soon began to stare into her eyes, his red ones glowing brightly in the dimly lit room.  

Sophie bit her lip as she neared the edge once more, feeling him expertly thumbing her clit with almost too much pressure. After a few more rough but slow thrusts, Derek began to empty his load into her, which in turn sent her over flying over the edge after him. She couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes shut at the feeling, a strangled scream leaving her lips.  

"Look at me," Derek commanded as he thrust into her a few more times without the precision he previously had.  

Sophie couldn't help but open her eyes and fix her stare into  the brilliant ones staring back at her as they rode out their orgasms. His body soon relaxed, catching himself on his elbows so not to crush her before pulling out of her and shifting them so he laid beside her.  

"Holy shit," Sophie muttered after several minutes, breaking the silence in the room.  

Derek chuckled darkly at that, eyeing her with a proud smirk on his lips. She turned over to face him as he drew her closer, noting that his werewolf features were still visible. He kissed her fully but languidly then, which she eagerly returned, as he wrapped his arm around her.  

They laid there for nearly twenty minutes in silence, basking in the afterglow of what just occurred between them. Sophie placed a soft kiss on his chest as he began to run his fingers through her soft blonde locks, trying to keep from getting his claws tangled in her hair.  

"I don't think we're done," Derek commented suddenly, feeling another wave of lust and need hit him like a bulldozer. He eyed her before swallowing.  

"What?" Sophie asked curiously.  

Before she knew it, Derek was on top of her again, his lips meeting hers heatedly. Sophie could feel his erection against her core as he fitted himself between her legs, almost as if he hadn't just had an orgasm several minutes before. That time around, he seemed more desperate and his movements were much more fervent than the first time.

After kissing her for a few moments and stimulating her by massaging her clit, he slid into her once again, groaning in pleasure as if he had just found his way home after being lost for days. He quickly turned them over so she was on top of him, but Derek soon began thrusting into her and moving her so Sophie met his thrusts. It didn't take long for her to catch up as Sophie finally registered what was happening, continuing their exploits as the night went on.  

After three more rounds, Sophie was exhausted and could barely move. The adrenaline from the past several hours running through her body had to be the only reason she was even conscious. Derek had finally passed out shortly after their last round several minutes before, his own exhaustion taking over his body. Derek's werewolf features were still on display, signaling that his wolf was still very close to the surface, but he looked peaceful while he slept. Sophie didn't know how much longer it would be before he would wake up, raring to go for round five.  

As she laid there, staring at the ceiling, Sophie suddenly remembered Derek had brought his phone with him. She needed to let Deaton know about Derek's symptoms; they were clearly not subsiding anytime soon. She slowly slid out of his grasp with a groan as her body protested her movements, searching for his jeans that he had tossed aside on the floor hours earlier. She had no idea what time it was, either.  

When she located Derek's jeans, Sophie searched in both pockets for the device. After locating it, she unlocked the phone, noting it was three in the morning. She started to call Scott, but decided a text would be better and would make less noise as she sat on the floor by the chair. She turned the phone on silent before sending a text to Scott to simply let him know she needed his help.

Her next text was to Deaton, letting him know all of Derek's symptoms that had started hours ago out of nowhere and showed no signs of letting up, save for the break she was getting at that moment. Before Sophie could finish listing out all the details, blushing as she typed them, Scott responded to let her know that he was on his way. She finished and sent her text to Deaton before telling Scott to bring reinforcements.  

Derek hadn't hurt her except for some minor bruising and scratches during their rendezvous, but none of them were substantial wounds. She was definitely sore in more than one place, but that was to be expected. It was a miracle that Derek hadn't bitten her in his current state, but she sensed that he had come close a couple of times.  

While she wasn't afraid of the Alpha werewolf lying a few feet away from her, Sophie didn't know if lust and intense arousal were the only symptoms he would experience from the venom coursing through his veins. Her fear was that Derek would become hostile when Scott arrived, especially if Scott tried removing her.

She just hoped Scott came with a plan.  

It soon became a waiting game for her. Sophie didn't know if Scott and his backup would make it before Derek woke up, but all she could do was sit there and wait. She watched as the Alpha slept in a heap on the floor, covered in dirt and body fluids that she knew covered her body as well. She tried to ignore the cool air that was lingering in the building since her body was still overheated, knowing as soon as her body calmed down the effects of the cold would hit her.

While she didn't mind the attention that Derek was giving her—a dark, twisted part of her loved it, in fact—Sophie knew that she shouldn’t get used to it. She had always wanted to know what being with Derek was like, but she wanted it when Derek wasn't under the influence of some powerful supernatural venom. She didn't even know if any of it was real, or if it stemmed from her being the only one there with him.  

The longer she sat there, the more Sophie tried not to think about how many times she and Derek had had sex — not just sex, but unprotected sex. While Sophie had just remembered the condoms that they had been given as a joke that still sat in the bag, she hadn't even thought about them once in the heat of the many moments they had shared. Not that it would have mattered either way, because she knew Derek wouldn't have been able to stop long enough in his frenetic state to even think about putting one on. She would definitely have to make a stop by the drug store later.  

She grabbed the bag of food from off the chair, her stomach reminding her that it needed nourishment in the worst kind of way. Opening the bag, Sophie pulled out the container of lasagna, one of the plastic forks, and a bottle of water. She didn't know how much she would be able to eat, but she would at least eat some while she waited. The lasagna was cold as she chewed on it, but it was still good nonetheless.  

Part of her wondered why she hadn't just run as soon as Derek had fallen asleep, but she couldn’t just leave her best friend there in his current state. Sophie hadn't left him once when he needed her, even when he claimed he didn't, and she wasn't about to start then. Sophie knew his actions were due to something beyond his control, regardless of whether he wanted to perform them or not.  

As she finished a couple more bites of food, washing them down with some water, Sophie heard a groaning from on the floor. She halted her movements, her eyes flitting over to where Derek still lay a few feet away from her. When she saw him begin to move, she quickly placed the cap on her water bottle and replaced the lid back on the container of food. She stood up slowly before setting the water and food on the chair, turning to watch Derek like a hawk.  

"Soph?" Derek called out finally in a raspy voice as he began to search the room for her. She noticed a hint of panic in his voice.  

"I'm still here," she replied back hesitantly, keeping her distance.  

His eyes met hers finally as he located her, their red hue still present as he blinked a few times to regain his focus. He stood up off the floor swiftly, stretching his tired muscles with several resounding cracks. Derek had noticed instantly that Sophie stood rooted to her spot, uncertainty flowing off her as she surveyed him intensely before she lowered her gaze.  

"Are you hungry?" Sophie asked, looking away from him, crossing her arms over her bare chest as she felt his eyes scrutinizing her. "There's still some food left if you want it."  

When he didn't answer, Sophie chewed on her bottom lip and met his gaze once again. She heard a low growl then as Derek appeared in front of her in a flash, his lips and teeth connecting to hers as he pulled her to him. His hands were all over her, yanking her back into the euphoric state she had been in each time, erasing the doubts in her mind. When he picked her up effortlessly and began to inch the tip of him into her entrance, she tried delaying him a moment so she could catch up.

Sophie said his name a couple of times, her voice nearly wrecked all over again, but her words didn’t seem to be registering. “Alpha,” she called out in a voice that she knew sounded desperate.

That one name falling from her lips must have gotten through to him because he halted his movements and looked at her. His gaze stared at her hungrily, but she continued. “I need you to touch me.”

His stare remained as he took in her words, as if trying to decipher their meaning.  

She moved his hands before dropping to her feet, making sure to stay close so he didn’t think she was resisting. Sophie then took hold of his hand, leading them to a vacant spot on the floor. She sat down in front of him, tugging gently on his arm. As he took the hint and joined her, Derek’s mouth was on hers once again as he lowered them both down onto the dirty floor.  

Sophie broke the kiss before Derek got too caught up, bringing his hand between them and placing it on her core. “Please, touch me, Alpha.” She looked into his red eyes pleadingly.  

Another low growl sounded from within Derek’s throat as he fulfilled her request, running his fingers over her overly sensitive clit with just the right amount of pressure.  

Sophie moaned loudly as his fingers began to further reignite the sparks between her legs, creating the desired effect she needed. “Oh, yes, just like that.”

He soon stopped before kissing her once again, pulling her closer and spreading her legs further. “I need you now.” Sophie didn't miss the desperation in his voice.  

She nearly cried out in pleasure as Derek buried himself inside her once again. She didn’t know how, but Derek felt even better than he had all night. She could already feel her high building, and he had barely begun.

“Oh, Alpha.” Sophie didn’t know why, but the name kept falling from her lips as if it was second nature.  

Things seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time as they continued. Sophie could feel the burning in her sore muscles, but she didn’t dare stop as she met his powerful thrusts. The pain barely fazed her when Derek ran his clawed fingers down her hips and thighs, leaving a trail of blood and scratches in their wake. Her fingers gripped his broad shoulders, digging her nails into his skin.  

Sophie had since forgotten about everything running through her mind before as it continued to cloud with thoughts of everything Derek. Their groans and skin slapping were the only sounds echoing throughout the building. It wasn't long before Sophie felt her release coming much sooner than expected, her moans picking up as she began to feel her walls hugging Derek's throbbing member tighter by the second. She had learned his habits well enough to know that he wasn't far behind her. She kissed his lips before trailing hers over his salty skin, feeling the scruff on his neck tickle her lips.  

"Alpha," Sophie slurred against his skin.  

The name spurred him on, a growl leaving his mouth. Derek began to pick up speed, his movements becoming erratic much sooner than expected. Sophie began to feel her body trembling uncontrollably as she neared the edge.  

"Who do you belong to?" Derek groaned against her neck, gripping her hips in a grip that was sure to leave more bruises and scratches as he continued his movements.  

"You," Sophie responded almost instantly. "I belong to you and only you, Alpha."  

A loud growl sounded from deep within his throat then. Sophie shuddered at the noise as she felt herself begin to let go. A moment later, an immense pain bloomed in her shoulder before it began to turn into the most amazing pleasure she had ever felt in her life.  

Her vision went blurry, and Sophie dug her nails into his skin as her orgasm exploded then. Her body writhed at the feeling as a scream left her lips, filling the entire abandoned building and surrounding area. She barely felt it when Derek extracted his teeth from her skin several minutes later, cleaning the bite he had left by languidly lapping up the blood.  

Before long, she began to regain her vision and focus, some of the feeling coming back into her body. She was still tingling and her brain was still on a high as she felt Derek pulling her to his solid body almost possessively. His movements continued, trying to find his own release, but she barely felt them. Sophie felt his lips on hers then, instinctively returning his kisses. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangled in his damp hair.

As she broke away for much needed air, Sophie shuddered as Derek kissed her shoulder softly. She opened her eyes to watch him, a small, content smile on her lips. She instantly froze when she noticed Stiles standing there in the doorway out of her peripheral vision, sending her straight back into reality. Stiles’ eyes were bugged out as he surveyed the scene before him, Derek still mid-thrust on top of her and the werewolf's focus completely on her.  

"Stiles." The name fell from her lips before she could stop herself, feeling Derek tense up and halt his movements a moment later.  

Sophie swallowed as she saw Derek's brilliant red eyes on her then, a questioning look in them. She knew the moment he realized they weren't alone, as his senses picked up a third body in the room and a low, defensive growl emanated from his throat. She then realized he had fully wolfed out for the first time that night.

"Derek, it's okay," Sophie whispered in a soothing voice, taking Derek's wolfish face in her hands to try to keep him calm and staring into his eyes. “He’s just here to help.”

Derek was off her and on his feet in a second, twisting around and standing in front of Sophie protectively. A snarl left his lips at the sight of Stiles, inching forward towards the frightened boy.  

Sophie heard a couple of gunshots ring out then, just before Derek began to stagger a bit as he was hit with what looked like tranquilizer bullets. She tried her best to get to him, but she still could barely move. That’s when she saw Scott and Malia run into the room to keep Derek distracted. She also spotted Chris inching into the room with the gun still trained on Derek in case more bullets were needed. Stiles was at her side then, removing his hoodie to wrap around her naked body.

“Oh, Soph,” Stiles muttered, his eyes full of worry at the sight before him. “We should have gotten here sooner.”

“I’m fine, Stiles,” Sophie assured him, pulling her knees to herself to cover her exposed body.  

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, wrapping the hoodie around her as much as possible.  

“No, it wasn’t like that,” she assured him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It better not be.”

She heard a roar rip through the building as she saw Derek eyeing them, his focus no longer on Scott or Malia. He was moving slowly toward them, Scott and Malia barely able to hold him back, but the tranquilizers did little to stop him. Sophie watched in horror as Chris had no choice but to fire a few more bullets into Derek’s back. Sophie gasped and covered her mouth as Derek immediately fell to his knees, tears forming in her eyes as his pained eyes locked onto hers. A whine left his lips then as he fell to the ground, the tranquilizers finally taking effect.

“It’s not going to hurt him,” Stiles assured her. “Argent had to use a little diluted wolfsbane, but Derek will be fine.”

Sophie nodded as she watched an unconscious Derek being carried out by Scott and Malia. She instantly felt the need to go after them, but knew she couldn’t.

“Scott’s going to come back to get you. Let’s get you dressed, okay?” Stiles rubbed her hand comfortingly.

She nodded her head, sniffling and wiping her face while trying to avoid getting dirt in her eyes.  

Stiles went to the bag he had brought them, grabbing a pair of Derek’s underwear and one of Derek’s shirts. He figured that it would be better for her to wear the oversized clothes instead of her own small ones.

Sophie was unable to focus much at all as Stiles helped her get dressed. She was barely paying attention as Scott jogged back into the room and gently scooped her up in his arms to carry her outside.

“I want to go with him,” she pleaded, an overwhelming need to be close to Derek coming over her.

“He’s going to be go okay, Soph. Deaton thinks he figured out what bit him,” Scott explained.  

“We have to help him,” she responded vehemently.

“We’re going to help as much as we can,” Scott promised her.

“But we need to get you to the hospital, first,” Stiles chimed in.

“I told you that I’m fine,” she argued. “Let me help you.”

“You’re going to the hospital, Sophie. End of discussion,” Scott retorted. “You can see Derek after you’ve been checked out.”

She sighed and resigned that she wasn’t changing their minds as she was placed in Stiles’ Jeep with a blanket draped over her. All she could think about was Derek’s well-being on the ride to the hospital before her body finally gave into the exhaustion consuming her.

Don’t fret! There is a part two to wrap things up. Part two is still being written, but hopefully I’ll finish that soon!

Part 2 »

[tipsycad147]

What will happen? Evil spirits, angry gods, and the wrong candle

Posted by Michelle Gruben on Jul 07, 2017

Welcome to “What Will Happen?”, a special blog post about breaking the rules of magick.

We all know the conventions: Use a pink candle for romance. Do banishing magick during the waning moon. Never cast a curse, lest it return to you threefold.

But sometimes, when thumbing through yet another Witchcraft 101 book, you hear that devilish little voice: Oh yeah? Says who? Does “should not” mean “must not”? And, most importantly, what will happen?

Every action has consequences. You just need to know how bad the consequences might be. So let’s consider the best and worst possible outcomes when Witches do things they’re not supposed to do. For starters:

What will happen if I use the wrong colour candle?

A pretty typical magickal hang-up is to dwell on the specific components of a spell. Beginners often want to make sure they have every ingredient in its place. This thoroughness isn’t a bad thing. Sloppy preparation and wonky substitutions are, indeed, one of the major reasons that magick fails.

But most of the time, the verbatim approach isn’t necessary. This isn’t a fantasy novel—you’re not going to awaken a buried fire-giant just because there was a typo in the Elven script. In fact, your spell will probably benefit from some conscious customisation. Choosing words, colours, and symbols that resonate with your will is always allowed.

But what if the substitution is less than purposeful? What if you use the wrong colour candle because it’s all that was available, or because you’re misinformed? Not to worry (too much). The most important spell ingredient is your intention, so chances are good that the working will still go as planned.

However, spell components—colours, plants, stones, scents—each have a particular energetic signature. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be so useful to the Witch. There is a danger that their properties could contaminate or conflict with the purpose of the working. If you don’t have the supplies you need, leave them out. Or at least choose something that complements your intention.

The best case: Your spell works anyway! Go you!

The worst case: Your spell picks up some energies that you did not intend.

What will happen if I summon an evil spirit?

Magick necessarily makes contact with what we might call non-normal reality. Some of that “non-normal” is also non-nice.  Many of the mechanics of ritual magick—the incense, the prayers, the magick circle—are designed to help the intrepid psychonaut to make contact with other worlds while steering clear of baddies.

Baddies? Yeah, it doesn’t matter much whether you think of them as demons, evil ghosts, grumpy elder gods, or nasty astral currents. These guys (and gals, and slithering sexless insectoids, if we’re fair about it) have the ability to turn your transcendent magickal experience into something unpleasant.

You know the expression, “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing”? This is certainly the case with evocation magick. Talented beginners are at the most risk, because they have the ability to make contact with harmful energies without necessarily having the skill to manage the encounter.

How much harm can an uncontrolled entity really cause? Practising magicians can debate all day long about whether visions and apparitions of spirits are objectively “real.” Some see them as manifestations of the shadow, or hidden self. Some say that demons serve the magician as challengers or gatekeepers, provoking spiritual growth through discomfort. But that’s little consolation to someone who’s experiencing a haunting or possession. In extreme cases, entity attachments have led to madness, injury, and death.

My experience has shown me that there is a certain amount of protection for humans pursuing a magickal calling. There are boundaries between the worlds, and Guardians charged with preserving those boundaries.

Yet there is no gain without risk. I will never argue that magick is safe. If you’re going to commune with spirits or go knock-knocking in strange astral neighbourhoods, it’s smart to learn some basic techniques of psychic protection. Confide your experiences in a mentor or a trusted friend. And get help if you evoke something that won’t go back to where it came from.

The best case: You fly with fairies, dance with unicorns, and visit the abodes of the Mighty Dead. You stumble upon one of the nastier backwaters of the Other world and come back stronger for the experience.

The worst case: You get possessed, go crazy, destroy yourself and everything you love.

What will happen if I offend a deity?

Invocation is the act of inviting a god to share space with the worshipper. All world religions have it in some form in their prayers, rituals, and sacraments.

For Witches and Pagans, however, invocation can be extremely personal. The Wiccan rite of Drawing Down the Moon is meant to invoke the Goddess into the actual body of the High Priestess. Possessory rites exists in Norse and Afro-Caribbean magick, too. Many Pagans have a personal relationship with one or more patron gods, who feel more like mentors and family members than distant entities. As Pagans, we accept that there isn’t just one god—there are many, all with different personalities.

With all these gods and all this closeness, misunderstandings are bound to happen, right? World mythologies are full of stories about the fates of mortals who have displeased the big guys. What happens if you get on a deity’s bad side? (None of this applies to non-theistic Witches. All they have to worry about is pissing off other Witches.)

It depends on the god, of course. I’m sure there are vengeful and petty gods who are capable of throwing you a trick or two. But most of the gods that Pagans follow exemplify the best that we are capable of as humans. Their attitudes toward us range from amused tolerance to pure unconditional love. They’re bigger, older, and wiser than us—why should they lose their cool over our screw-ups?

Still, if you want to have a productive relationship with a deity, it pays to cultivate one. Patronage is a two-way exchange. Learn what pleases them, what displeases them, what types of offerings and actions are likely to get their attention. One priestess I know speaks of “courting” the Goddess. In other words, don’t just invoke Her and expect Her to show up—be the kind of dancer She’d like to dance with.

My tradition teaches that deities are a lot like us—albeit older, more powerful versions of us. They are bundles of consciousness experiencing the world. The change and evolve like we do. They marvel at us as we marvel at them. They are partners to be honoured, not bosses to be feared.

Be respectful, be sincere. Don’t worry so much about stepping on Isis’s toes.

The best case: Your slight is pardoned by the gods, your relationship grows.

The worst case: Look at what happened to Arachne, Cassandra, Prometheus, and like, a hundred people in the Bible. Just saying.

This has been “What Will Happen?”, a brand new feature for magickal contrarians. We’ll be posting new episodes when we feel like it.

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/what-will-happen-evil-spirits-angry-gods-and-the-wrong-candle